The Courtship of Hatsune Miku
by RedSavant
Summary: The ties that bind us are strange things.  With time, they can weaken and fade away, or grow stronger, pulling those they connect together with a force not unlike a magnet.  Luka/Miku.  Chapter 6-A up now.
1. Luka Luka Night Fever

**Hey, everyone, I'm back in the game, and this time I'm writing Vocaloid fic. This'll be a pretty long one, I think, and hopefully it'll be enjoyable for you all -- the second chapter cracked me up, heh.**

**First chapter might be a little odd, but bear with me here. The plot doesn't really kick off until later.**

* * *

Cryptonight! An oasis of the night life, a neon island of music – and _the_ place for up-and-coming musicians. With gourmet food, a generous dance floor and an even more generous open bar, Kuniaku's hottest new club opened its doors every night at ten o'clock sharp and was packed by ten-thirty. The atmosphere tended toward the quiet side until midnight, when the tables were cleared away and the music really began. When the music started, the crowd took on a life of its own; a confusing mishmash of sound, smoke and sweat, an ever-shifting liquid _push_ of bodies and light.

Megurine Luka _loved_ it. Moving confidently through the press, dancing as much as walking, people flowed around her like the silk of her shin-length _xiongsan_ flowed around the bare skin of her legs. With her rose-colored hair bound up, held in place by a complex brass clip, she felt the pulsing lights on her neck and shoulders, a physical beat keeping time with the band on stage. They were all right; but the dancers knew instinctively that the best was yet to come, and danced slowly, saving their energy.

"I was wondering when you would arrive," a voice said, close to her ear to be heard over the music. The breath that tickled her cheek was hinted with vanilla, and Luka smiled as she turned to face the young man who had come up beside her. His deep blue hair was neatly combed under a sleek black headset, though a single lock of it fell across his forehead; he brushed it aside with a white-gloved hand, frowning only momentarily when it immediately fell back.

"I'm barely late at all, Kaito," Luka replied, laughing. "Aren't you singing tonight?"

Kaito shrugged helplessly and gestured to his lightweight black-and-white outfit, reminiscent of a maitré-d's at a high-end restaurant. Though simple in design, the uniform must have cost a fortune; it was cut to fit, and the fabric seemed to shimmer in the club's half-light. "Mei-san's got me running drinks all night," he explained. "You should go check in with her; she's been worrying about when you would arrive." Luka sighed, knowing exactly how the club's general manager would be 'worrying'. But it was early yet, so she might still be sober. …Might.

Kaito twitched and stood straighter as a woman's voice cut through the din. "I've got to go," he said hurriedly, laying a hand on Luka's shoulder for a moment. "I'll let her know you're here, all right? You should get ready. We'll be getting this lot off the stage in no time," he added, casting an unimpressed look at the struggling band. The lead singer, a young white-haired woman with a long ponytail down her back, appeared to be trying to hold back tears, and the crowd was beginning to mutter. "Later, okay?" Kaito called, disappearing into the shadowy maze of people.

Luka waved at his retreating back, then settled in as people filled in the bubble of calm that their conversation had generated. She let herself be moved by the crowd, circulating with aimless grace until, belatedly, she noticed the music had ended.

A short, slim woman with feathered brown hair was mounting the stage; the heels of her leather boots rang sharp against the metal stairs, and her eyes shone with mischief and saké. "How you all doing tonight?" she roared, her unamplified voice carrying through the club, and the crowd roared back to Shion Meiko, Cryptonight's unofficial patron goddess and master bartender. She smiled devilishly and snatched the mic from its stand, starting to pace back and forth across the stage.

"My friends, I gotta say, we've had some ups and downs in this place," Meiko continued, letting her gaze sweep over the crowd. The white-haired singer sniffed, and Luka saw her disappear in the direction of the bar. "But there's one thing you can always count on," Meiko continued. "One singer always knows how to hit it – one singer who's been kicking ass with the best goddamn techno ever seen by man since we started this place up – say her name with me, it's our very own Luka Luka," she shouted, pointing out to where Luka stood. The applause surged as people gave Luka some space; Meiko's laugh bubbled through the mic, and Kaito gave her a thumbs-up as a spotlight broke through the gloom.

"You know the music, folks," Luka said, smiling confidently. She reached up to her hair clip, pulling it free; with a quick button press, the woven brass folded out into an ear-mounted headset mic. With a double tap of her foot, Luka took a breath, and shouted with the weight of three hundred voices behind her own: "_Dame dame yo_!"

As the band launched into the familiar music, Luka closed her eyes, letting the rhythm carry her. This was her time, and this was her song, and she knew the words by heart. "From the right side to the left…" She swung her hair out; freed from the clip, it reached her shoulder blades, and strands danced at the corners of her vision as she moved.

"I know you better than anyone, so leave it all to me…" She moved like water, around and through clumps of people, constantly in motion. She danced with everyone and no one at once; in some way, this music was for her alone, and the only way to show them was this, imperfect as it was. The music was hers alone, but perhaps – just perhaps – with her voice and body, the lights and the beat, they could see, just a little.

"Luka, Luka, night fever!" This was the time she lived for; not just her body, but her voice and soul were a conduit for the music. The words weren't even important, not really. What was important was the time, so close to midnight and the death of the old day. What was important was the light, dancing glittering circles across the floor, sparking like stars as the rhythm pounded through her feet. What was important was this: the beat, and the synthesizer, and the power and the feeling – droplets of sweat suspended forever beadlike in midair – three hundred people moving as one, with the glowing thread of the music running over and around and through them, eternally linked and eternally one, bathed in the endless neon of the forever night.

* * *

"Hey, hey, take it easy, Luka. Are you all right?"

"She's jus' tired. Silly girl... Why don't you bring…"

Luka's eyes felt impossibly heavy, and she didn't bother trying to open them, even as a blast of cold air hit her in the face. She shivered a little, automatically clinging to the person supporting her, and Kaito's voice vibrated through her cheek.

"You must be tired, Luka-san." Wearily, Luka nodded, and she heard Kaito's warm chuckle. "I understand. It's very early, after all."

Luka made a small sound of agreement. So tired… it would be easiest just to fall asleep right here. That seemed like a lovely idea.

"Taxi…"

* * *

**Notes time!**

**Why yes, I did make up a nightclub by combining 'Crypton' and 'nightclub' into a pun on Kryptonite. I am not ashamed.**

**Kuniaku City is the city this is set in, in the nation of Kuniaku. The name means 'evil country' or 'country of evil'... and I think that's the only reference to a Vocaloid song in this chapter. Don't expect there to only be one in later chapters, though...**

**Remember, comments are love, and I love people who love me. **


	2. Turkish March Owata!

**Hey, everyone, welcome to Chapter 2. What's this I see here... a stirring of plot? Perhaps, perhaps. But also, perhaps not. Moving right along!**

* * *

"Luka…"

Luka shifted uncomfortably. There was an annoying pressure in her side.

"_Luka_…"

Perhaps she'd left her cell phone in her pocket last night. Luka moved her hand in a vaguely waistward direction, hoping to seize the offending appliance and throw it across the room – bonus points if it went out the window.

"Luka!"

Instead of hard plastic, Luka's hand met someone else's. Around that time, the sounds that had been escalating in volume and plaintiveness resolved themselves into an actual word – her name – and Luka opened her eyes.

Several things became apparent as she did so. First in precedence: her head hurt. This was likely due to the windows on the wall across the room; they faced east, where the sun – as was its wont – currently was. Second in precedence: this was not her bedroom. The hardwood floor and white-painted walls made that clear enough, but the additional fact that she was lying on the battered old couch rather than on her bed helped. (Somehow) third in precedence: there was a six-foot-five, black-haired woman in fleece pajamas lying across the back of the couch, poking her in the side with one elegant finger. Luka's bleary blue eyes met the other woman's mismatched pair – red to Luka's left, deep blue to her right – and a contented smile spread across her tormentor's face.

"Oh good, you're awake now," the woman said, letting her arm flop down to rest on Luka's stomach. "Sitting up here was getting a little uncomfortable." She kicked her slippered feet to illustrate her point; since her legs hung about a foot over the edge of the couch, it was a fairly ridiculous image.

"'Morning," Luka mumbled, rubbing at her eyes. Yokune Ruko, Luka's flatmate and best friend, was an unusual person at the best of times; sleep-deprived and hung over, there was no way Luka was up to the task of conversation with her, so she let herself tune out her heterochromatic friend while she took better stock of the situation. As she'd noticed before, she was in the apartment's common room, a big open space that combined lounge with kitchen. The sunlight that had woken her was indeed natural sunlight; somehow or other the burning lances of morning always managed to dodge around the glassy skyscrapers between the sun and the apartment to catch Luka in the eye. Judging from the angle, it was still pretty early, maybe about ten A.M. –

Luka shot vertical, narrowly missing Ruko's forehead with her own. "What time is it?" she shouted, wincing as she rolled to her feet and dashed toward her room.

Ruko shrugged, slipping off the couch and back under the _kotatsu_ she had contributed to the apartment's furniture when they'd rented it. The table's ancient heater rumbled audibly, and Ruko fairly purred with happiness, spreading herself out over the scratched wood surface. "Maybe ten-thirty?" she called, after a moment of quiet bliss.

"Shit," Luka fairly shrieked, peeling off the _xiongsan_. She threw open her wardrobe and fumbled through her drawers, changing quickly into new clothes. No time to shower; she'd just have to sit far away from people. To top it all, as she swung the wardrobe doors closed, she caught her finger in the gap.

"You're always in such a hurry," Ruko commented as Luka stormed back into the kitchen, sucking her finger annoyedly. "Relax a bit. Classes don't start until noon anyway –"

"_Your_ classes don't start until noon, Ruko," Luka almost snapped, stuffing papers into her bag. "I, on the contrary, have an English exam in half an hour."

"Oh. Sorry," Ruko replied, yawning. "I would've woken you up earlier, but that cute blue-hair guy said I should just let you sleep it off…"

Luka stiffened. Kaito had had to bring her home? The day could hardly get worse, and it hadn't even started properly yet.

"I'll be back… sometime," Luka said, pulling on her coat and settling her bag across her shoulders. "Don't go back to sleep; you need to catch the eleven-thirty train into town, remember?"

"Got it. Good luck on your test," Ruko said sleepily, pillowing her forehead on her hands on the table. Luka pulled open the door and stepped out into the stairwell; a jingle of keys later, she was gone.

After a few minutes' silence, Ruko sighed. "I guess this means she's not making breakfast…"

* * *

"Shit, shit, shit," Luka muttered, pushing her way through the bustling crowds filling the sidewalks. The morning was bright, clear and cold, the January chill focusing Luka's stubbornly-fuzzy head like a lens. Unfortunately, the last thing she needed right now was help understanding just how screwed she was.

The train station finally loomed into view, and Luka allowed herself a small sigh of relief. Starting up the stairs, she checked her watch: ten forty-five. Just in time to catch the train into the University, if she hurried. The rumble of the approaching train was already resounding through the station.

Luka hustled up the remaining stairs, pushing past business-suited salarymen and mothers towing children of various ages. The buckles on her bag jumped and clattered against their clasps as she ran, and she fumbled one-handed in her wallet for her train pass as the doors opened and people disembarked. "Come on, come on," she whispered, feeding the little cardstock rectangle into the reader. She pushed at the turnstile bar… which refused to turn.

"Please renew your train pass," a pleasant female voice said from the little speaker in the top of the turnstile. "You have zero yen remaining. Please renew your train pass."

"You're kidding," Luka sputtered incredulously. She shook ¥100 coins into her hand, thanking whatever deities came to mind that she hadn't cleaned the change out of her wallet last night. The fare was ¥800… she had to have enough. Had to.

She shoved the last of her coins into the slot and strained against the bar. Any second now, it would start to turn. Any second… she heard the last coin jingle down into the basket. Any second now.

"Please insert another ¥50," the voice said. "Your paid fare balance is ¥750. Please insert another ¥50."

Luka stared at the digital readout. She'd put eight coins into the slot, eight ¥100 coins. Unless… A thought struck her, and she hit the coin return. Seven ¥100 coins fell into the cup… and one ¥50 coin, identical except for the little hole in the middle.

"You _are_ kidding," she decided to no one in particular. The train marshal's sudden shout caught her attention, and she looked up to see the doors on the train beginning to slide closed. _Oh, _hell_ no_.

Paying no attention to the fact that she was in a skirt, Luka vaulted the turnstile bar. Her feet hit the floor and she _moved_, feeling her toes dig into the concrete as she hunkered down and sprinted like she hadn't since grade school. People inside the train began to notice, and shouts began to float out of the rapidly closing doors: "You can make it!" "Go, go, go!" The train marshal turned confusedly, then rapidly stepped out of the way as he caught sight of the madwoman hurtling toward his train. Luka stretched out a hand, gathered her legs beneath her, and _pushed_ –

The doors made a little hissy sound as they closed fully. Luka's eyebrow twitched and she ground to a halt, barely two feet from the threshold. She'd never noticed that noise before. The doors were obviously laughing at her, and she glared at them as they started down the tracks.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we can't stop the train now," the marshal said, rubbing the back of his neck. "The next train is in ten minutes… you can ride for free, alright?"

"…That's fine," Luka said. Letting her shoulders sag, she turned back to the turnstile – at least she'd get her money back. Or she would have, if a small, grubby child hadn't just pocketed it. Well, it wasn't even enough for a train ticket, anyway…

"Today can't get any worse," she murmured, taking a seat on a nearby bench. The other end was occupied by a teenager in a junior high uniform, who was giggling at something on his cell phone. Luka leaned back with a sigh, closing her eyes. Ten minutes… she'd really have to haul ass to get to class at an acceptable level of 'late' at this point. She wondered if it even really mattered anymore; English was only half her major, after all, and she had semesters enough left to switch over to a full major in music…

The giggling boy was getting really annoying. Cracking an eye open, Luka sat up, craning her neck to see over his shoulder. What was displayed on the phone's little rectangular screen was a pair of women's underwear, pink with lacy bits on it. She sniffed, closing her eyes again. Teenagers… Come to think of it, she thought she had a pair just like that. Come to think of it, she was wearing them right now. Come to think of it, she'd _vaulted over a turnstile in a skirt_. Luka felt her opinion of her own intelligence drop.

"Hee hee, [photo get]*," the boy muttered excitedly. A shadow fell over the screen, and he turned around, surprised. Luka took advantage of his confusion to pluck the phone from his grip. "Hey," he tried, standing up. Wordlessly – not even looking at him – Luka walked the short distance to the rail well and dropped the phone in, taking care to get it as close to the third rail as possible. "Hey, that's my _phone_," the boy said, voice escalating. "Do you know how _expensive_ that wa –" He choked off as Luka's eyes met his. After a moment, he fell backwards, landing on his rear. Luka nodded perfunctorily at him and sat back down on the bench. Ten minutes. How long could that take?

For once, not too long. She was awoken by the train marshal gently shaking her shoulder. "The next train has just pulled in, ma'am," he said. "Please, come aboard."

Luka stifled a yawn. "Thank you," she said. She stood, turning to the track, where the train had indeed just arrived. People were pressed up against the doors, impatient to get off, and Luka smiled again. She might even get a seat.

"I'm sorry for your luck," the marshal said as they approached the train. He waved her over to the side as they neared the doors, making space for people departing. "I know you're in a hurry, but I'd rather not have put you on a commuter train…"

Luka blinked, then looked again at the train. Yup. Those people weren't pressing against the door of their own free will; there was a reason commuter trains were called 'sardine cans'. She sighed. If she immediately dropped English 301, there might be time left to sign up for a vocal theory class in its time slot…

"Thank you for riding," the same female voice said, tinny over the train's speakers, as the doors opened and the few passengers who were leaving got off. "Welcome to West Hata, Kuniaku City. Thank you for riding." The people remaining on the train immediately expanded to fill what little space had been freed up – there was a sound like a gust of wind, fifty people heaving synchronized sighs of relief – and Luka pulled her bag's strap farther up her shoulder. This was going to be difficult.

"Here," someone called. "There's room here." Luka looked around, and after a moment her eye was caught by a hand waving at her. It was fine-boned and small – almost like a child's – and the nails were painted an eye-popping teal. Gratefully, Luka grasped the hand and stepped onto the train.

As the doors closed behind her, Luka found herself shoved uncomfortably into a short girl with remarkable hair. It was pulled into twin pigtails that fell to the bottom of her shoulder blades, but that was not the remarkable part. The remarkable part was that her hair was the same color as her eyes – a vibrant blue-green, several shades lighter than her nail polish. "Sorry I ran into you," the girl said, leaning back a little to pull her face away from Luka's chest. "I had to kind of pull you on. At least you're here, though, right?" she smiled disarmingly.

"Thanks," Luka said, returning her first genuine smile of the day. "I usually catch a much earlier train, so I don't end up on sardine cans much…" she trailed off, sniffing the air. "Does something smell to you?" she asked after a moment. Being packed in with people wasn't an unusual experience for her, but being packed in like this – not dancing, just standing in one place – was suffocating, and she didn't need weird smells to boot.

The other girl frowned, looking around at the salarymen clinging grimly to the straps overhead. "Like what?" she asked. "I don't smell anything."

"Like…" Luka took another sniff. It was pungent, and very recognizable, but her brain still felt off, and it was refusing to identify the smell. "I can't really say, but it really smells. Really badly. Someone forgot to take a shower," she muttered, and the girl giggled.

"Well, I don't know," the green-haired girl said, shrugging. "If you recognize it –"

"I do," Luka exclaimed, interrupting her. "I've got it. Leeks!"

There was a deadly silence aboard the train.

The other girl shrugged off her backpack, wrestled it around in front of her, and unzipped it. "This is my lunch," she said flatly, pulling a whole leek from the bag. Luka opened her mouth to apologize, but the girl simply slid the leek back into her bag and melted backwards into the crowd. The leek smell went with her, but somehow Luka felt even worse when it was gone.

* * *

What seemed like an hour later, Luka turned the corner to Kuniaku University's foreign language quad. The big brownstone building on the corner closest to her, Minato Hall, was the English building, and Luka hurried toward it. The clock set into the building's façade just below the roof read eleven-ten; if she was lucky, Leon-sensei hadn't gotten around to passing out the tests just yet.

"Luka-san!" Luka pulled up short and looked around at the familiar voice. Near the Hall's main entrance stood a young man in jeans and an open windbreaker; he made Luka cold just by looking at him, and she pulled her coat tighter around herself.

"Gakupo," she said, smiling as she joined him at the top of the short flight of steps. "Sorry I missed you last night; Mei-san needed me to come in."

"It's quite alright," Gakupo assured her, smiling back. "But… we're late, you know, Luka-san."

"I've told you twenty-five hundred times, you don't have to call me Luka-san," Luka replied, brushing a strand of purple hair behind his ear. She leaned in to kiss him, closing her eyes as their lips met, and sighed contentedly as she pulled away several seconds later. "I needed that," she said. "Today has been a very bad day so far."

"We shall hope that it improves as it goes on, then," Gakupo said, taking her hand. Together, they walked into Minato Hall, and the sound the door made as it closed behind them echoed through the empty quad.

* * *

*** If you see square brackets in my stories, it generally means that whoever's using them is speaking English, or some other language that the point-of-view character understands but that someone else wouldn't necessarily. Just getting that out there, heh.**

**Oh, shocks! You got your Lukapo in my Luka/Miku fic. Could this be trouble for later...?**

**Again, lots of song references, and maybe a bilingual joke or two. VocaloidOtaku folks, be sure to mention any finds in the thread; I wasn't lying about the cookies.**

**Cheers, everyone!**


	3. Konbini

**Oh my god, here comes the plot at last. Red's finally got his s!*t together, it seems? You'd be surprised.**

**Oh: I'd rather not hear any anti-Luka/Gakupo, please. I happen to enjoy the pairing, even if it's not my favorite - so please, just remember that this is categorized as a LUKA/MIKU fic for a reason, and be patient.**

* * *

"What a day," Luka sighed, leaning back in her chair until her head bumped against the wall. "I just want to get home and finally take a shower…" She took a sip of her hot chocolate, now cooled to pleasant warmth, and closed her eyes against the orange light of the setting sun.

The little corner café was officially the 5th Street Coffee shop, but the students and faculty of Kuniaku U. universally called it Teto's. Under the management of the high school student and her brother Ted, who had taken over when their father died, the café had become a haven for anyone looking for a romantic lunch, a last-minute all-nighter, or a good post-test crash. This particular chair was pretty uncomfortable – it was a simple cushion on a wrought-iron frame, not suitable at all for napping – but Luka thought she might make a game effort anyway.

"I'm sure you did quite well, Luka-san," Gakupo said quietly, smiling. Luka twitched, opening an eye to look at him.

"Who said I'm worried about the test, Gaku?" she asked. "I'm just really, really tired…" Letting her chair fall forward again, Luka set her head down on the sparkling-clean, if a little chipped, wooden table between them. She inhaled, letting the shop's ever-present aroma of coffee and fresh bread drain some of the tension from her body.

"You were at the club again last night, weren't you," Gakupo not-really-asked, his tone not changing. Luka felt the tension that had leached from her muscles fill them again, and she made a move to sit up – but Gakupo's warm, strong hand was atop her head, fingers idly combing through her hair, and she relaxed again.

"…Yeah," she said, after a moment. "I talked to Meiko-san again," she added, remembering, "…but she said she still can't let you in until you're twenty-one. I'm sorry."

"I'm not concerned about the club, Luka-san," Gakupo replied, continuing his slow ministrations. "I'm concerned about you. This is not healthy – staying up all night, getting three hours of sleep before waking up again… it will catch up to you."

"I always get enough sleep," Luka protested, lifting her head enough to stifle a yawn with the back of her hand. "Besides, I –" She was interrupted by a burst of electronic music from her bag, and Gakupo lifted his hand away to let her get at her cell phone. The little ceramic charm attached to it – a tuna – clattered against the back of the phone as Luka flipped the top open. She stilled it with her free hand.

"Hello, Megurine Luka," she said, casting an apologetic look at Gakupo. There was a pause as she listened to the tinny voice on the other side of the phone, then she sighed. "Right, right. I got it. I'll make something when I get home." Closing the phone with a flick of her wrist, Luka stood and shouldered her bag.

"I need to bring Ruko some dinner, looks like," she said, stooping to give Gakupo a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you –" She paused as Gakupo returned her hug, holding her in place for a moment.

"Don't go dancing tonight, okay? Stay in and get some rest," he whispered. Releasing her, he stood and picked up his empty cup. "Would you like me to walk you to the train station? It's getting dark," he said, speaking normally.

Luka smiled, hitting him gently on the head. "You don't need to worry about me, Gakkun," she said, placing her own empty mug back on the counter. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" She waved a goodbye to Teto, who paused in cleaning long enough to return it, and left in a sweep of chill air.

"You know, you shouldn't worry so much about her, Kamui-san," Teto said after a moment, bending down to root around behind the counter for something. "She can take care of herself, y'know? Aha," she muttered, pulling a rag from some mysterious drawer and starting to buff the counter with it. "She'll run out of steam eventually," the pigtailed girl finished.

"That's what I am concerned about," Gakupo murmured, setting his mug down next to Luka's. He let his gaze drift out the window, his eyes tracing the peach swirl of Luka's hair in the afternoon wind.

"That's what I'm concerned about."

* * *

It was only once she'd gotten within three blocks of home that Luka remembered that they did not, in fact, have anything to make dinner with. Pinching the bridge of her nose – no wonder Ruko had called her instead of simply mashing whatever she could find into combinations that might be called edible – Luka turned her feet toward the convenience store nearby, on Sensou Street. She could just pick up a few bento and bring them home, then go shopping tomorrow when she had more money on her. Problem solved.

Opening the door, Luka found herself in a world of artificial lighting, preternaturally clean linoleum and pop music so instantly forgettable she almost didn't hear it at all. The store was mostly empty this late on a Wednesday; a pair of blond high school students too similar not to be twins seemed to be arguing about what fruit to buy, but aside from that the place stood quiet. There wasn't even a cashier in sight.

Luka drifted over to the bento section to pick out some of the lunch packs. There was only one left with tuna sides; she grabbed it quickly despite the fact that there were no other customers within ten yards. For Ruko, she picked out a vegetable-and-barley pack and a pair of iced coffees. One would be necessary to wake her up in the first place, and she'd complain if she didn't have one to drink with dinner. Juggling the groceries around until she was fairly certain that she wouldn't drop them, she headed over to the register, which was still deserted.

"Hello?" Luka called, setting her items down on the counter. A door stood ajar behind the counter, and she leaned over a little to see if she could see into the room. A quiet sound was filtering out through the crack; it almost sounded like… singing…? "Hello? I'm ready to pay," she repeated.

"Ah, sorry, sorry," someone called from the back room. The door swung open, and the speaker dashed back to the register. "I was – um, that is, I –" Luka blinked, surprised.

The green-haired girl from the train stopped immediately when she recognized Luka, and her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. When she spoke again, it was with a clean-cut sort of politeness much cooler than the weather outside. "Hello again," she said. "Is that everything you want?"

"Can I apologize for what I said?" Luka asked. The girl pointedly ignored her, mouth moving silently as she counted up the prices. She stacked Luka's bento into a bag, keeping the coffees aside. "That's ¥1200 even."

Luka sighed, looking down at her nametag. "Look, I want to apologize, um, Hajine-san*. I actually do like leeks, really, and it was rude of me to –"

"Hatsune," the girl said quietly.

Luka paused. "Sorry?"

"It's Hatsune," the cashier repeated. "Hatsune Miku." Surprisingly, some of the frost in her eyes had melted away. "You were having a bad day, right?"

Luka let out a short laugh. "You could say that, yeah. I was late for an exam, lost my train fare, ran into a junior perv…"

Miku nodded to herself. "I knew it," she said. "I guess I can forgive you, then," she said, smiling. "Let's start over, huh? I'm Hatsune Miku," she said, offering a hand. "You won't forget it, 'cuz it's the same way you write 'nice to meet you'."

Luka, after a moment's hesitation, took Miku's hand and shook. "I'm Luka," she said. "Megurine Luka, like 'wandering sound'."

"The same 'ne' as my name*," Miku exclaimed. "That's pretty cool, huh? What a coincidence." She handed Luka the plastic bag, taking the bills and tucking them into the register. "Thanks for shopping here, and have a nice day," she said. "I have to say that to everyone," she added, "but I actually mean it with you."

Luka picked up Ruko's coffees, putting one into her pocket to leave a hand (mostly) free. "Thanks, Hatsune-san," she said, turning to leave.

"Hey." At the sound of Miku's voice, Luka paused, one hand still on the door. Cold air blew past her into the store, stirring her hair across her face, as she turned back to face Miku.

"Come back again sometime," the green-haired girl said, smiling as she leaned over the counter.

Luka nodded, smiling herself. "I will." Then her phone rang, and she tucked the other iced coffee into her elbow to open the device. "Yes, I'm coming," she said, holding the phone a bit away from her ear. "Yeah. I bought you coffee, too, so stop shouting…" her voice trailed away as she walked into the night, eventually cutting off completely as the door closed behind her.

Miku watched her retreating back disappear into the burgeoning twilight. After a moment, she looked over at the only other customers in the shop, the argumentative twins. "So, you two gonna buy something, or what?"

* * *

"What," said Ruko, her tone completely flat.

"She followed me home," Luka said, stepping past the dumbstruck woman and kicking off her shoes. "Can we keep her?"

"I –" Ruko tried, turning back and forth between Luka, who was setting down a bag of groceries, and Miku, who gave her an apologetic wave from the hallway. "You bought _another_ high schooler?" she asked, after a moment. "She's not going to fit in the closet with the others."

"Ruko, this is Hatsune Miku-san," Luka said, pushing Ruko gently aside so Miku could step in. "Miku-san, Yokune Ruko, my roommate."

"Nice to meet you," Miku said, bowing to Ruko, who returned the gesture somewhat bemusedly. She closed the door behind the green-haired girl, bending to set Miku's shoes against the wall.

"Miku-san's a freshman, and apparently she takes Voice with Kiyoteru-sensei too," Luka explained to Ruko. "Since I run into her at the convenience store all the time nowadays, I figured she might as well come over and sing tonight."

"She takes Voice with us? No way I missed someone with hair that color," Ruko said, folding her arms and giving Miku a critical look.

Miku returned the look, adopting the same pose. "I take Voice with you? No way I missed someone that tall," she replied.

Ruko burst out laughing and patted Miku on the shoulder. "We're going to get along just fine," she said, nodding happily. She fairly skipped back over to the _kotatsu_, sliding under it with practiced ease. "So, _can_ we keep her, Luka?" she asked, burying herself under the heated table until only her face was visible. "Freshmen are so cute."

"Um, I brought along some music," Miku offered, pulling the sheets out of her bag. "I'm sorry, Yokune-san… I didn't know Luka-san had a roommate, so I didn't…"

"Ah, that's okay," Ruko said, shrugging under the table's skirt. "I can wing it, right?"

"Well… I mean, it's a duet," Miku continued wretchedly. "I'll bring a trio song next time, but…"

"That's really okay," Ruko insisted, pulling herself out from under the _kotatsu_. "Really. I actually just remembered I have some studying to do, so I'll let you two sing, okay? I'll be in the library." She slung on her coat and shouldered her bag, disappearing out the door before Luka could stop her.

"Should I go after her?" Miku asked Luka, shuffling from foot to foot. Luka shook her head, frowning at the door, which stood open about an inch.

"She's just being pissy for some reason," she replied. "She gets that way sometimes if she's had too much coffee." She offered a chair to Miku, sitting down on the couch after the younger girl accepted. "Ruko's right, though. It's weird how we've never seen each other around before, you know? Especially since we're in the same Voice class."

"Oh, well, I have seen you around before," Miku said, laying her bag on the floor next to her chair. "In the dining hall, you know? Around," she finished, shrugging.

"You have? Really? Why didn't you say anything on the train?" Luka asked, interested. Miku gave a small laugh.

"Well, it's hard to fit in," she said. "Hi, I'm stinky, have I seen you somewhere before?" She laughed again, but stopped as Luka frowned.

"You're not allowed to bring that back up," the senior chided her _kohai**_. "I already apologized for that."

"Hey, I'm the one who was called stinky," Miku retorted, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "You should apologize again."

"I won't apologize a second time for saying you smell like leeks," Luka said, folding her arms across her chest. "If you want me to apologize again, you'll have to smell different."

"What do I smell like now, then?" Miku said, sitting forward. Luka stood and leaned over her, putting a hand on the younger girl's shoulder to balance herself.

"Well?" Miku asked, looking up at her. Luka blinked, surprised. "You smell... really good," Luka said, unconsciously leaning closer. "Like flowers, or something. I like it..." Catching herself, she sat back quickly, wondering why her face suddenly felt hot.

"Um, thanks, Luka-san," Miku replied, smiling. "It's a new perfume, so..." Come to think of it, were her cheeks a bit pink as well...?

"So, what'd you bring?" Luka asked maybe a little loudly, picking up the sheet music. She leafed through until she found one she recognized, showing it to Miku. "How about this one? Kiyoteru-sensei taught me a trick with the harmony I want to try out –"

The door closed with a bang.

"Wha-?" Miku performed a strange little jump away from the door. "Ah… I guess we left it open… I guess air pressure closed it?"

"Maybe," Luka said, standing. She crossed to the door and opened it, looking out into the hall beyond. It was empty, the faux wood paneling on the walls staring back at Luka in the glare of the fluorescent lights. Frowning, Luka retreated back into the apartment, closing the door behind her.

It would have taken a more sensitive nose than hers to detect the faint smell of coffee that lingered in the hallway.

* * *

**Ah crap, drama. What's this mean for our heroes and heroines...? I'm not going to tell you. That would defeat the whole purpose.**

**Notes!**

*** All these asterisks relocate to the same footnote, since it's the same thing, basically. Miku and Luka are telling each other how to spell their names using the proper _kanji_, many of which can share the same pronunciation. Luka's mistake - calling Miku 'Hajine-san' - comes from the fact that the first _kanji _of her family name, ****初****, can be read as 'hatsu' or as 'haji', as in ****初め**** (****_hajime_****, or 'start'). Both girls' names contain the character ****音****, 'ne', for 'sound'.**

**** Underclassman, or coworker/fellow student with lower status. The correspondent term for addressing a senior is 'senpai', which is much more commonly used in anime and such.**

**Oh, by the way. I realize some of y'all may not have, in point of fact, heard the songs I've been linking these chapters to... so here you go! These are only the extensions; you'll have to plug them into a certain video-sharing site that starts with You yourself, since FF will redact the link if I post 'em directly.**

**Luka Luka Night Fever (Chapter 1): SQhfd6nQbbU [Any translation of this song you find that starts with 'No no too bad boy' is INCORRECT to the point of making me nerd raeg.]**

**Turkish March Owata! (Chapter 2): fs5_vNMg1xc**

**Konbini (Chapter 3): 0Sp9rU5OIBc [Subs aren't great, but understandable].**

**As of next chapter, I'll be posting them at the end of the chapter they're titled for, so please keep a lookout for that.**

**Cheers!**


	4. Take Me To The Sea

**Welcome back to the new and improved Chapter 4! I haven't changed much of what was uploaded before - maybe some grammar fixes - but there's _new content_ at the end! Woohoo!**

**This chapter is now hands-down the longest single chapter I've ever posted on FF. You'll notice it's not named for a song; it's getting harder to find songs that fit the plot. Keep looking for references, though! And be warned: language. This fic may hit a ratings change in the upcoming chapters.**

* * *

The darkness was comforting. There was a sort of velvety… dark… to it this morni– hold it, don't even _think_ the word – and it was quite nice, really. Warm and fluffy, or was that her blanket? It could be both. Perhaps it was both. Either way, whichever it was – the blanket or the darkness – it was quite nice, and in any case lying here and enjoying it was a much better idea than facing the bright green lines of evil over to the left there and realizing…

…That the alarm was going off, Miku finished her thought grimly. It wasn't even an honest alarm, either – it was some vegetable juice jingle, which she could probably sing herself by now. Lying spread-eagled half under and half wrapped in her bedsheets, Miku contemplated for a good minute the relative merits of getting up versus going back to sleep. The former won the day with its compelling argument – namely, that she would get to turn off the vegetable song – and Miku rolled out of bed with a groan.

She gave the clock a decisive smack, which turned the volume up because she hadn't technically speaking hit the snooze button and because it was going to be one of those days. Taking more care and using rather more force the next time, she cut the chorus off in mid-'Po-Pi'. The silence was godly, and Miku looked at the clock to see if she could hazard giving the benefits of sleep more consideration. She could not.

"Take early classes," she mocked herself, crossing the floor to the light switch. "Don't be lazy – get over the stereotype! You can do it," she muttered, blinking as light flooded the room. Pink shone back at her from every direction –the ceiling, the walls, the curtains, the stuffed animals arrayed on the windowsills; even the kitchenette was pink. Miku sniffed, idly digging her toes into the pink shag carpet – _rose_, she could hear her mother insisting. "Pink," she said scornfully to the floor, daring it or her mother to suggest otherwise.

Miku pulled her pajamas over her head, letting them lay where they fell. The olive-green fleece clashed horrifically with the carpet, and she smiled grimly as she dressed. Was it too cold out for stockings? Probably not; she selected a black pair with trim the same shade as her hair. As she sat down on the floor to pull them on, a shadow crossed in front of her door and the mail slid under the gap. She scurried over to collect it.

"Bill, bill… newspaper," she murmured, setting the paper aside. "Is it really the 27th already? This month just flew by..." The bills she tossed directly into the (pink as a matter of course) trash can; another copy would be sent to her parents anyway, and the copy sent to her was mostly lip service. "Bill…" At the last envelope she paused. This was not a cheap piece of bulk mail; the envelope itself was printed of high-quality paper, a fine parchment, almost. Fighting a sudden sick feeling, Miku glanced at the top-left corner.

The envelope fluttered wildly, falling far short of the trash bin, and Miku hugged her knees to her chest as it fell. "Fuck," she whispered thickly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Slowly, teal fingernails digging creases into her stockings, her hands balled into fists.

Though the carpet absorbed most of the sound of her punching the floor, it did nothing to dampen the scream that accompanied it.

* * *

**-One Day Later-**

"Troublesome," Gakupo murmured once more to himself, flipping his scheduler closed. This ten-page paper on the Thousand Wars Era – freshly assigned – wouldn't take all that long, but it was destined to be intensive work; he could feel it. Still, the class was required for his major in medieval history, so there was really no choice but to do it.

The library would already be open, even this early – before most of the campus had finished breakfast, and certainly before Luka and Ruko were even awake. Turning down the grey cobbles of the history quad's main thoroughfare, Gakupo headed east into the midmorning sun, idly lifting a hand to shade his eyes. Now, if he started with the acquisition campaigns of Lord Yokujin, that would provide a solid starting point for… for… He blinked. Was that…? It couldn't be. And yet it had to be –

"Luka-san?" he called, hurrying to catch up. Sure enough, as he drew nearer, she turned to face him, a curtain of pale pink tracing the movement a second later. Gakupo wasn't sure if the smile she gave him or the sunlight framing it was brighter.

"Gakkun, there you are," Luka said, stepping in to give him a hug. "I was actually about to call you, but I guess I don't have to anymore." She let out a breathless laugh.

Gakupo stared. "Luka-san, do you know what time it is?" he asked. "It's only eight-fifteen. I've never seen you up before ten at the earliest."

Luka shrugged. "I told you I've been getting more sleep," she said, poking Gakupo in the shoulder. "Anyway, what I have to tell you can't wait until English. Come on back to the apartment – this is big." Pulling at Gakupo's hand, she started down the pathway to the university train station. Gakupo pulled up short.

"Luka-san, what's going on?" he asked, looking at her intently. "You are never this energetic, let alone this early. What's going on?"

Luka rolled her eyes, still smiling, and grabbed his hand more firmly. "You'll find out when we get there. Come on! When I said big, I meant _really_ big."

Surrendering to her indomitable cheer, Gakupo let himself be pulled along, not-quite-literally physically. As he walked, something occurred to him, and he came up alongside Luka.

"Luka-san," he said, jogging to keep pace with her, "you suggested we go back to your apartment. That's another ¥800 for both of us. Didn't you recently have trouble with your train pass?"

"That was weeks ago," Luka said, waving a dismissive hand. "Besides, Gakkun," she added, stopping outside the train station, "where we're going –" she winked – "we won't _need_ train passes."

* * *

"All I want to know is what I did to deserve being woken up so early so I can avoid doing it next time I get reincarnated," Ruko moaned, her voice somewhat muffled. Luka lifted the _kotatsu_'s skirt curiously and was met with a baleful heterochromatic stare. Dropping the blanket back down, she settled back onto the couch next to Gakupo and turned her attention once more to Miku, who was perched in one of the chairs and looking horribly conflicted.

"…So anyway," Miku said, after a moment. "I know I don't know you all very well, and it may be a bit presumptuous of me to ask this." She paused, visibly steeling herself. Gakupo shot a glance aside at Luka, whose face was a mask. "But I want to ask anyway," Miku continued. "I'd like you all to… to…"

Taking a deep breath, Miku shot up off the chair. "Come to the beach with me!" she shouted, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

There was a chorus of "What?" from Gakupo and the _kotatsu_. Luka, unable to hold it in anymore, grinned and hugged Gakupo.

"Miku mentioned one day during practice that her parents own a little strip of beach down in the South Sea," she explained. "Apparently, they've invited Miku and any of her friends to stay with them over the Festival of Masks – and she wants to bring us three."

"The festival starts tomorrow," Miku added with a sly smile, "and goes until the 31st this year. Kuniaku U.'s one of the only schools that gives a whole week off, did you know that?"

Ruko poked her head out from under the table. "The 30th is Luka's birthday," she said. "I couldn't go unless you promised to let us hold her a giant beach partay."

"You mean beach party?" Miku asked, frowning.

"Beach partay," repeated Ruko, dead serious.

"Well, it's my parents' money," Miku replied, getting back on topic, "so I'm sure we could work _some_thing out." She giggled, looking around at her friends. "So what do you say, everyone?"

"Sounds good to me," Ruko said, giving Miku an upside-down thumbs-up before realizing and quickly flipping it. Luka nodded, folding her hands in her lap.

"Though I'm not sure about this huge party," she said. "I mean, for the past few years we've just shared a bottle of wine between the three of us, so…"

"We'll work it out," Miku assured her, smiling. She turned to Gakupo, who was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "How about it, Gakupo-san?"

"I do have a paper to write…" he said. Luka hit him.

"So that's a yes, then?" Miku asked. Gakupo nodded ruefully, rubbing discreetly at his arm. "Sounds good," she declared, holding her right hand out over the coffee table. "Let's meet back here tomorrow after lunchtime, and we can call a cab or two for the airport." Leaning forward, Luka laid her hand atop Miku's. There was a moment of silence.

"Come on, you two," Luka said, looking between Gakupo and Ruko. Ruko made a cursory effort to sit up, eventually giving a 'well, I tried' shrug and settling for holding her hand out in the general direction of the table. Gakupo placed his hand on top of Luka's, and the four nodded firmly.

"It's settled, then," Miku declared, bending to pick up her bag and shoulder it. "I'll talk to my parents tonight and we should be good to go." She brought her hands together, letting her fingers brush across the back of her right hand. "I'll see you all back here, okay?" With that, she was gone, the faintest hint of leeks trailing through the air out the door after her.

"Well, we should probably go pack," Luka said, after a moment. "Gakkun, I'll let you go – you have to pack your bathing suit," she reminded him. "Ruko, you too. You can't just sleep on the beach."

Ruko stuck her tongue out at her roommate. "Can too."

"Okay, then, _don't_ just sleep on the beach," Luka replied, standing. She walked over to the doorway to her room, then paused again, thinking. "Though… I have to wonder just how rich Miku's parents are, if they can get us next-day tickets on a flight to the South Sea during winter break," she mused.

* * *

"Who said anything about tickets?" asked the man. Standing at least head-to-head with Ruko, he was leanly muscled and quite tan. His hair was jet-black and slicked back, revealing a large scar running horizontally across his forehead; when he smiled, one got the impression that his incisors were just a little longer than one might expect.

All of this meant nothing compared to the machine he was standing in front of.

"Your parents sent a private jet?" Luka sputtered, staring at the sleek little plane. Matte-black, it was painted with vibrant red detailing and bore the legend 'Hatsune Records' along the chassis.

Miku had the grace to look embarrassed. "I may have played down that part of it," she said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. The sun was high overhead and the air was crisp despite the heat shimmering up from the tarmac; nearby, massive jet liners taxied around, looking simply clunky next to the Hatsune jet.

"Did you also play down the 'beach' part?" Gakupo asked, setting his suitcase down. He gave a respectful bow to the pilot, who gave him a dazzling smile in return.

"…Yes," Miku replied wretchedly. "They actually own some islands in the South Sea."

"How _many_ islands?" Ruko asked, peering at Miku.

The green-haired girl practically wilted. "Some?" she squeaked.

Luka stepped forward, putting a hand on Miku's shoulder. "Don't worry, Miku-chan," she said, smiling. "It's true that most people would be _more_ excited after learning that their hosts for the Festival of Masks own private islands, but Ruko's just being contrary –" she shot Ruko a glance – "for some reason. It's Al-san, right?" she said, addressing the pilot, who nodded courteously to her. "Thank you for coming to pick us up, Al-san," she finished.

"Not a problem at all, miss," Al replied, bending to pick up Gakupo's suitcase and both of Ruko's bags at once. "And yes, miss, it is Al – though most people call me Big Al. Can't imagine why," he added with a wink, picking up the rest of the luggage on the second go-around.

"We might as well get going, then, if you're all ready," he continued, showing the four up the staircase into the jet. "Young mistress, just let me know."

"Let's go," Miku said, turning her chair around to ensure that everyone else was seated comfortably. Each row held only two chairs, one on either side of the central aisle; more akin to leather easy chairs than airline seats, they boasted a full-horizontal reclining range, which Ruko immediately took advantage of. Luka took the chair opposite her roommate, while Gakupo and Miku took the row ahead of them.

"We'll be in the air for about an hour and a half, so feel free to do whatever you want," Al said, voice crystal-clear over the speaker, as they took off. "That includes, but is not necessarily limited to, sleeping, singing, dancing, eating, reading, talking, martial arts, inventing new words, inventing new _curse_ words, playing card games and forging major pieces of art. Sadly, I'll have to ask you not to try skydiving today."

Miku shared a laugh with Luka. "I've known Al for years," she explained. "He always makes jokes when I'm flying alone."

"I see," Luka replied, smiling. She swiveled around to Ruko, who hadn't moved since takeoff. "Are you all right? You look a little pale," she said quietly.

"I'm fine," Ruko said, not opening her eyes. Luka opened her mouth, but the black-haired woman spoke again. "Pretty fancy, hm, having her own plane chauffeur?" she asked, pitching her voice low. Miku had engaged Gakupo in conversation about his paper; she listened to the purple-haired man with genuine interest, and did not seem to hear. "I'm surprised she didn't make him carry her into the plane too…"

"Is there something wrong?" Luka asked, frowning. She leaned across the aisle to look at Ruko, who cracked open a bloodred eye to look back. "You liked her fine before we found out her family was rich, Ruko," she continued. "Look," she said, gesturing at Miku, who was laughing at one of Gakupo's quiet jokes. "It's Miku-chan, okay? Not some 'No-way-I'm-wrong-because-I'm-just-that-cute' princess," she finished. "That's not going to change."

Ruko looked at her roommate a moment longer, then hit the lever on the side of her chair to sit up. She dug around in her bag, producing a set of craft supplies and an incomplete mask, which she laid on her lap before pointedly turning away from Luka. Luka sighed and straightened her chair; it was only later that night that she realized what Ruko had muttered when she'd turned away.

"I don't want _anything_ to change."

* * *

"Mother? Father?" Miku called, peering around the door into the cavernous depths of the house – palace, really – they had arrived at after a short drive from the small concrete airstrip. Built in old Kuniakkan fashion with sloped roofs and elegantly-trimmed porches, the entire complex was surrounded by a stone wall as decorative as it was functional. Past the courtyards and outbuildings arranged around the main house, Luka could see the blue sea sparkling in the afternoon sun.

"This place is amazing," Gakupo breathed, running a hand along an elaborate pattern carved into the doorframe. "Miku-san, is this truly Atsureki-era carving?"

"Yes, it is," said a new voice, interjecting itself over Gakupo's. "If you recognize its value, perhaps you would consider not touching it."

Gakupo jerked his hand away from the carved wood as a striking woman rounded the corner of the porch. Tall and very thin, appearing not a day over thirty, the woman exuded an air of grace; the poison-green kimono she wore, skillfully wrapped to expose a just-so amount of bosom, whispered wealth with every hiss of silk on silk. Even the paper fan she held conveyed both highest class and exquisite taste as it stirred the strands of chocolate-brown hair that had escaped her loose bun.

"Dear Mother," Miku exclaimed, stepping back down from the doorway. She gave a respectful bow. "I received your letter, Mother," she said, "and, as you requested, I have come to visit you and Father." She bowed again, then half-turned to indicate the others. "I have also brought three of my acquaintances from University - Megurine Luka-san, Yokune Ruko-san and Kamui Gakupo-san."

"It is my pleasure, my lady," Gakupo said, bowing from the waist. Luka and Ruko followed suit, and the three of them received a bow mere inches away from 'curt' in return.

"Well. We must not be lacking in hospitality, however… unexpected the guests," Miku's mother replied after a moment, snapping her fan shut with a flick of her wrist.

"I am Hatsune Yosoko," she declared. "You may address me as Hatsune-san. I trust my daughter will outline any other rules of conduct for you," she added, looking aside at Miku. For an instant, Luka saw the woman's eyes dart to Miku's; but the moment passed. The chill Luka suddenly felt in the air, however, lingered.

"Place them in the cabana rooms," Yosoko said to Al, who bowed deeply. "There are several still vacant." Al bowed again and picked up the travelers' luggage; he started back down the porch stairs before Yosoko raised a single hand.

"Your room in the main house is still kept up by the cleaning staff," she said to Miku, who paused halfway down the stairs. "If you wish, you may stay there for the duration of the holiday."

Miku glanced involuntarily out to the sea, then back to her mother. She opened her mouth to reply.

Yosoko flicked her wrist, snapping the fan – decorated with the _kanji_ for Hatsune in what was surely real gold plate– out to its full width. Miku closed her mouth again, and nodded. Yosoko mirrored the gesture ever so slightly, then inclined her head to the guests and stepped through the front door.

Al shrugged Miku's luggage off his shoulder, shifting Ruko's bags to the arm he'd freed up. "I'm sorry, miss," he said quietly, putting her bag down. "If you'll wait a moment, I'll bring your bags in for you – I'd like to get the others settled, though."

"No, I'll come down with you," Miku replied, picking up her bag and setting it inside the house. "Let's all take a look at the ocean together, hm?" she asked, smiling. "Once everyone's settled in, we can go for a swim!" She slid past Al on the stairs, retracing their steps along the central greystone path that connected the main gate with the central building. Once outside the fence, she turned right, following the path along the wall to the shore.

"Does that happen very often?" Luka asked as the three travelers and Al began to follow after her.

"Does what happen very often?" Al asked, turning his head to look at her. Though he had shown no strain under the weight of their luggage before, lines now pulled at the scar across his forehead and at the corners of his mouth. Somewhat taken aback, Luka frowned.

"…That," she said, gesturing to include the main house, Yosoko, and Miku in one pronoun. Al hefted the bags farther up his shoulders, making no reply.

"I wasn't expecting her mother to be like that, either," Ruko chimed in, after a moment. "I mean, yes, plastic surgeried like no one's business and falling out of her kimono I could have guessed, but I didn't expect her to be such a raging bit –"

The luggage crashed to the ground, crushing a flat outline in a small patch of sea grass. Al stood with his back to the group, and when he spoke his voice was very low. "The Lady Hatsune has many qualities," he – _growled_. "Familial love is not high among them. I am aware of that. But I will _not_ hear her maligned." He ran a hand over his face, visibly composing himself, then bent to retrieve the bags. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment, his voice back to normal. "I didn't mean to snap."

"It's quite alright," Gakupo assured him, only his use of the contraction betraying his surprise. "Such talk violates the standards expected of us while we are guests, Ruko-san," he gently reminded the black-haired woman.

"Yes, yes," Ruko replied. She sighed, then raised a hand in the direction of the main house, which was now obscured by the rising terraces they had just descended. "Sorry," she said.

"Good enough for now," Luka said, patting Ruko on the head. The taller woman sighed and leaned into it, forcing Luka to stretch her arm out. "Can't you walk straight?" she asked her friend, half-mock-annoyed. "This was cute when you were a kitten."

"I'm always cute," Ruko replied. "See, watch –" she stopped in mid-sentence as the group rounded the last corner through the thicket of palm trees that separated the compound from the beach. "Oh. _Wow_."

From under their feet, where lush grass melted away into rich, shade-cooled soil, a blanket of pure white sand stretched, sparkling, down to the edge of the bright azure ocean. Small waves lapped idly at the shore, limited by the tall stone cliffs that formed a natural harbor around the beach. Dotted across the sand, palm trees stretched into the sky to provide shade and – as was already in evidence – anchoring points for several cushioned hammocks. A cool breeze kissed Luka's face as she stepped out onto the sand and shed her shoes; the powder-fine sand, somehow untouched by the wind, slid around and over her feet as she wriggled her toes.

"Welcome to Isobe-jima," Al laughed, his good humor restored as he began walking across the beach. "One of the most exclusive resort islands in the South Sea, and one of two owned by Hatsune Records, Inc."

"This will be the greatest beach partay of all time," Ruko murmured reverently, kneeling to scoop up a double handful of sand.

"Not with only four people," Luka replied teasingly, giving her a hand back to her feet. "Half the fun of beach parties is inviting random passersby to join in."

"Well, you three aren't the only guests," Al said, "though you're not likely to see many of the others. They're dignitaries and the like – CEOs, you know? They'll either be up in the other buildings in the compound," he explained, "or out there – " he pointed – "in their cabanas. You all are lucky – you get the cabana _rooms_," he added, grinning.

The big man paused at the beginning of a wide boardwalk that extended out into the cove. Every hundred feet, it branched off to one of several large, thatched-roof buildings that stood on stilts above the water. Each boasted a huge sliding glass back door, which led out onto a combination patio/deck; sturdy wooden stairs granted direct access to the ocean itself from the porch. "These first three are the empty ones, if I recall," he said, pointing them out. "Decide amongst yourselves who gets which, okay? I'll handle the bags."

After a short discussion, it was decided that Ruko would get the room farthest from shore, then Luka, then Gakupo. Al grinned and started off down the boardwalk, depositing their bags by the doors. "Please, enjoy yourselves here," he said as he left, giving them a polite nod. "Don't cause any trouble, and we'll get along great, just like we have been." He grinned again, nearly blinding them with the sunlight sparking off his teeth, then set off for the compound.

"I'm gonna go get changed," Ruko muttered, pulling uncomfortably at her shirt. "Gakkun, swim trunks _on_! Last one back here gets to carry the other one up the hill." She sprinted down the boardwalk, leaving Luka and Gakupo standing together.

"Is something bothering you, Luka-san?" Gakupo asked quietly, making no move toward his cabana. Luka sighed, casting a look back at the main house, the tallest spire of which was just visible through the tops of the trees.

"I don't know, Gakkun," she said, reaching out to hug him. "It just seems strange, that's all. When Hatsune-san was talking to Miku, I –" she paused. "Where is Miku, anyway?"

"I am… not sure," Gakupo replied, frowning. "She came down here before we did… ah," he said, relieved, as Miku stepped out of his cabana. She was wearing a black bikini with a faux-lace skirt and teal-blue accents on the top, and she dumped the clothes she had been wearing earlier in a heap inside Gakupo's new front door.

"Sorry, Gakupo-san," she said, jogging over to the bemused pair. "I had to change, and yours was the closest. I'll bring my clothes up when I go." She stretched, the long lines of her body highlighted by the sun, and smiled. "You two should get changed, too," she continued. "I think Ruko-san was probably serious about making you carry her."

"Indeed," Gakupo murmured, nodding respectfully to Miku. He disappeared into his cabana, shouldering his bag as he went. Luka started down the boardwalk for her own house, but she was stopped by a hand on her arm. Surprised, she turned to face Miku; this close, she could see the puffiness around the girl's eyes.

"Miku-chan… have you been –" Luka asked quietly, instinctively lifting a hand to touch Miku's face. She caught herself in time, using the motion to push a strand of hair behind her ear, but Miku didn't seem to notice anyway.

"Luka-san… can I talk to you?" she asked hesitantly, looking up at the older woman.

Luka frowned. "You don't have to apologize for your mother, Miku-chan," she said, shooting a glance inland. "I'm sorry, but I have to agree with Ruko; she _is_ a bitch."

Miku blinked, then burst into disbelieving laughter. "Did she really say that?" she asked, shaking her head.

Luka blinked, taken aback by her reaction. "Well… almost," she said. "Al-san snapped at her, though."

"Al-san is very loyal to my parents," Miku replied quietly. "He would work for them even if they paid him nothing at all." She took a deep breath, then plunged into her sentence. "Anyway, Luka-san, I just wanted to say thank you."

"Thank me? For what? You invited me a South Sea island for a week, Miku-chan," Luka reminded her incredulously. "If anything, I owe you thanks."

"No, just… in general," Miku said, clasping her hands behind her back. "I want to thank you all, for… well, for everything. For being my friends. You three are the first real friends I've ever had, you know? Not counting onii-chan, of course." She smiled.

"Miku-chan…" Luka said, staring at her. Miku blinked, suddenly self-conscious, and opened her mouth to say something else.

"Luka, I'm disappointed in you," Ruko called, trotting to a halt nearby. She wore a man's pair of bathing trunks and a loose-fitting black button-down shirt, which she had tied underneath her breasts. "You didn't even try, did you?"

Luka raised an eyebrow at her roommate's ensemble. "You can't swim in that," she said, frowning at Ruko's loose knotwork.

Ruko frowned back at her in equal measure. "Why not?" she asked, adjusting her neckline a little. "You know I hate clothes that are tight on my boobs."

"Well, yeah, but that outfit's a little…" Luka replied, looking to Miku for help. The green-haired girl managed to shake her head to indicate that no, Luka was on her own here, before bursting out giggling. Confused, Luka turned to follow her gaze. Her eyes widened.

Stepping out of the cabana, Gakupo waved almost sheepishly, then continued tying his hair back into a ponytail. The reason for Miku's laughter soon became evident: his swim trunks, which fell to just below his knees, were emblazoned with a psychedelic pattern of repeating eggplant shapes. He caught up with them on the beach by the end of the boardwalk, where Ruko stood, nodding approvingly at his suit.

"Hey Gaku, tell me something," Ruko said, stepping in front of him. "Do I look like I'm going to fall out of this shirt?" she asked, presenting her chest to him for inspection.

Gakupo shook his head. "You are fine, Ruko-san," he replied solemnly, smiling at her.

"You're taking clothing advice from a man wearing LSD for pants," Luka pointed out to Ruko, which sent Miku into another laughing fit.

"Your objection is noted, Luka-san," Gakupo said, pointedly tugging his trunks up a little. Luka scoffed at him.

"Open defiance," she remarked to Miku, indicating Gakupo with a thumb. "That's inexcusable, don't you think?"

"Completely," Miku replied, nodding sagely. She advanced with Luka on Gakupo, picking him up and bodily slinging him into the chest-deep water the boardwalk stood over.

"How do you like your trunks now, Gakkun?" Luka called, leaning over the edge as he resurfaced. Gakupo studied his bathing suit for a moment, then looked back up at Luka, shading his eyes from the afternoon sun.

"I believe they have killed several small fish already, Luka-san," he deadpanned. Luka saw his eyes flicker to something over her shoulder, then quickly back to her eyes – but not quickly enough.

"Aha," Luka shouted, attempting to sidestep Ruko's push. She had enough time to realize that Gakupo had effectively set her up before the world tipped sideways and went all wet.

"Bwaugh! Damnit, Ruko, I'm still dressed," she sputtered, coming up for air.

"Wasn't me," Ruko said, shaking her head. She pointed to Miku, who smiled devilishly and tossed Luka a playful wink.

"Little…" Luka muttered darkly, starting to wade back to shore. Still, it was nice to escape the constant heat of the sun, and after a moment she lay back, letting the water frame her face.

"You should change, Luka-san," Miku remarked, shading her eyes against the glare on the water. Luka cracked open an eye to stare at her; the green-haired girl fairly beamed back innocence of the I-surely-have-no-idea-why-you're-glaring-at-me sort.

"I'll go in a minute," Luka replied, closing her eye again. "Though you wouldn't be so eager if you knew what I'm going to do to you once you get in the water."

"Oh? What's that?" Miku asked, folding her arms. She bent over, preparing to jump in, but was stopped by a shout from the shoreline. Al, still perfectly groomed despite the afternoon heat, waved a muscled arm, lowering it as the four approached the shore.

"Young mistress, there you are," he said, giving only the most cursory nod to the other three. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm afraid I have to bring you back up to the house."

Miku frowned, looking around at Ruko, Gakupo and Luka, who mirrored her expression. "Al, we just settled in," she said, adopting a reasoning tone. "Can't we swim a bit longer?"

"Not your guests, miss, just you," Al replied. "Lady Hatsune wants to speak with you regarding this year's preparations for the Festival." He turned, starting back to the edge of the palm thicket. "Let's not keep her waiting, young mistress."

"I guess not," Miku sighed, following after him. She spun on her heel and walked backwards for a few steps, frowning apologetically to her friends. "I'll be right back down, okay?" she said, turning back and trotting to catch up with the tall manservant.

Watching Miku disappear into the trees, Luka felt the same chill settle back into place, without a single cloud in the crystal blue sky.

* * *

**So there we have it. I don't know how long this arc will take, but I do have some concrete stuff inside the nebulous plot swirl in my brain. Fear not, this fic _is_ going somewhere.**

**Notes!**

**While 'yokujin' can mean 'hunter', the warlord Gakupo is writing about would have written his name '慾人', for 'greedy man'. A fitting name for someone known for acquisition campaigns.**

**The Atsureki era Gakupo is talking about would be equivalent to the Sengoku Jidai of Japanese history, a period of nearly constant war that lasted for roughly two centuries. Kuniaku is _named_ 'evil country'; its history is not a peaceful one. By the way, 'atsureki' (軋轢) translates directly as 'strife' or 'discord'.**

**Hatsune Yosoko would write her given name as '余所子', translating literally as 'far-off child' but hearkening to 'yosoyososhii' (余所余所しい), meaning 'distant' or 'formal'.**

**Isobe-jima (磯辺島) means 'beach island'. I am very creative.**

**Well, everyone, thanks for bearing with me while I worked with this chapter. I'm always happy to get your reviews, so please consider taking a moment to leave one, especially if you're also favoriting the fic or me. You may like it now, but with feedback I can get even better.**

**Cheers! **

**-Red**


	5. Just Be Friends

**Whew! Remember how I said Chapter 4 was the longest single chapter I've uploaded so far? Well, now Chapter 5 is. Here's where things get interesting, folks. Hang on to your seats.**

* * *

"_Be swayed by the wind, flutter, tumble and fall…_"* Luka sang to herself, twisting the faucet closed. A burst of steam followed her from the shower, clouding up the small mirror over the sink as she wrapped herself in a towel; she scrubbed at it until she could see her face again. "_This night will be dyed in red…_" She wrapped her hair into a second towel, squeezing the water out of it, and pushed open the door.

Ruko lowered her hand, surprised. "Sorry," she said, giving a small cough. "Are you done?"

Luka held up a finger. "_I only want to be close, to be held by you…_"

"_Until our sadness disappears into the sky_," Ruko finished with her, the dark-haired woman's voice sliding easily into the harmony. Luka let out a laugh and twirled past her friend, leaving damp footprints down the hall to her bedroom. "I can't believe this place," she called, swinging open the doors of the bamboo-paneled wardrobe in the corner of the room. "Piping hot freshwater out to these cabanas must cost a small fortune. As in, more than the rent on our apartment. Heck, more than the apartment itself," she mused, fishing through her clothes. She selected a black, flowing top – decorative but not ostentatious – and black pants and slipped them on. Not bad, for what had once been a clubbing outfit.

Ruko, waiting outside in the hall, walked with her as she left the little house, locking the door behind her. It had darkened considerably since Al had made his third reappearance of the day, telling them that dinner would be served in the main household promptly at eight o'clock and that their presences were requested by Lord and Lady Hatsune; there was still plenty of light to see by, though, and the day's heat had mellowed into a comfortable, pervading warmth that seemed to radiate from the air and the gentle waves of the sea below. "You've changed your tune since earlier," Ruko commented idly, as they walked. Her black boots, sensibly heeled, rang out _dak-dak_ on the salt-cured wood of the boardwalk, measuring the distance to shore in two-foot increments.

Luka frowned up at her friend, who had combined her usual pigtails into a single long braid down the center of her back. "What do you mean?' she asked, scanning the cabana coming up for signs of Gakupo. There was still time, though, and she wasn't overly worried about missing dinner.

Ruko shrugged, coming to a halt along with Luka at the crossroads between the main boardwalk and Gakupo's cabana. The tall post-light at the junction switched on as they approached, throwing their shadows down into the water. "I mean, earlier you were all worked up about Miku's mom," she said. "And now you're applauding her plumbing." She stifled a massive yawn.

"I wasn't applauding anything," Luka hissed back, flushing. "I was just saying that –" she broke off, sighed, and changed tack. "You're right, you're right. Anyway, I am still a bit worried about Hatsune-san. The way she was talking to Miku… I mean, she never did come back down," she said, frowning.

"They haven't seen each other for a while," Ruko suggested. "They've got catching up to do, probably. Hey, Gakkun!" she called suddenly, waving at Gakupo as he stepped out the door. He was dressed simply in a button-down shirt, slacks and a thin black tie; Ruko whistled appreciatively as he joined them under the light, giving the two women a polite bow.

"I'm going to steal you from Luka," she decided, patting him on the shoulder. "You don't mind, right, Luka-chan?" Gakupo chuckled quietly, sketching an even deeper bow to Luka; he took her hand as he straightened.

"My apologies, Ruko-san, but Luka-san is the only woman for me," he said, holding out his arm for Luka to take. She smiled and laid her hand in the crook of his immaculately-creased elbow, darting in to kiss him; before her lips touched his, though, she paused. After a moment, she leaned forward again, brushing her lips across the silk-smooth skin of his freshly shaven jaw. "Shall we depart, my lady?" he asked, and the three headed for the beach.

As they walked, Luka stole a glance at Gakupo. His face – warm yet solemn at the best of times, completely unreadable at the worst – provided no clues. His bearing, formal as always, felt no chillier than normal; in fact, his fingers were laced with hers. And yet there was… distance between them, somehow. It wasn't a gap Luka could guess the dimensions of, nor the cause, and she felt a little pang in her chest. _Has something… changed between us? _She felt it had, and the thought made her a little sad.

The winding, hilly path through the palm forest that connected the compound with the beach was well-lit, with stone lanterns blazing merrily away every few feet. As the trio grew closer to the house, however, Luka began to see other lights deeper in the forest. The warm glow they cast was different from the flickering, open-air flames of the stone torches; directionless and hazy, they somehow drew the eye before seeming to vanish between the trees, only to reappear again. Varicolored and ephemeral, they lent an unearthly air to the forest path.

"It's been years since I've seen a proper Lantern Forest," Luka exclaimed, feeling a grin grow across her face. "This is amazing." The warm ocean breeze danced through the trees, sending the fey lights into a swirl; the thinnest branches among the underbrush bore the tiny paper lanterns that gave off the glow, hundreds of them, none bigger than her fist. The craftsmanship involved – the _time_ it must have taken –

"Lady Hatsune is quite a fan of the Festival of Masks." Al's voice was as smooth as the bow he gave them, and as he straightened up he removed the white domino mask he was wearing, sliding it up to cover the scar across his forehead. "You all look lovely tonight," he said, bowing to the women and shaking Gakupo's hand. "Please, come inside. The young mistress has requested that I serve as your general caretaker during your week on the island –" he grinned – "but to be honest, I would have to show you the way to the dining hall regardless. New guests tend to get lost." As he spoke, he led them around the stone walls of the compound and back up to the front door, where Hatsune Yosoko had greeted them only hours before.

The first word that came to Luka's mind as she stepped into the Hatsune compound's central building was 'cavernous'. The air was artificially chill, especially after coming in from the twilight heat, and held no trace of salt. The foyer combined Eastern aesthetic with Western architecture; rice-paper _shoji_ screens patterned with plum branches set aside hardwood hallways that stretched further into the house. Artifacts she didn't recognize hung from the walls and stood on understated pedestals, with no glass; this was not a museum, and the assumption was made that anyone with enough sense to associate with the Hatsune family had enough sense not to touch.**

"Amazing," she heard Gakupo breathe beside her. He pulled away to examine a small, ivory-sheathed knife resting on a display stand. "Luka-san, this is –"

"Please, come this way," Al broke in firmly. "Kamui-san, there will be time enough for a gallery showing later, should you wish." As they walked, Luka took the opportunity to survey the house; it seemed bigger on the inside than it could possibly have been on the outside. The sharp contrasts between the stark white walls and the dark, almost mahogany-shaded wood of the floor gave the very air a feeling of _rightness_. Everything was in its proper place; there was no room to discuss that that was not, because it simply did not exist. Not here, not in this house. Even the courtyard garden, glimpsed briefly between a tuxedo-clad servant and the edge of a _shoji_ screen down a hall, was neat: perfectly arranged, impeccably balanced. Luka sped up her steps, eager not to fall behind.

After what felt like ten minutes, Al glided to a halt beside a large set of exquisitely made _shoji_. Rich, dark wood framed and supported rice paper without a single flaw; the color was completely even, without a hint of cloudiness or speckles. Writ large on the door, with the same shine of genuine metal as on Yosoko's fan, were the kanji 初音: Hatsune. First Sound. The lamplight behind the door cast a blur of shadows across the paper, and the quiet sea rumbling of many voices in low conversation were the only real clues as to what lay beyond.

"Are we just walking in?" Ruko asked quietly, leaning in Al's direction. The heat and the day's activities had done a lot to bring the tall woman back to her usual level of energy – that was to say, she'd nearly fallen asleep waiting for Luka in the shower – but she was visibly fully alert now. Luka didn't blame her. Her own nerves felt frayed at the edges, though she couldn't have said why.

"Just walking in? No, I wouldn't say that," Al said, with a strange turn to his voice. Before Luka could try to identify it, though, Al slid the massive doors aside on whisper-quiet tracks. "It is my pleasure and honor," he boomed, "to introduce Kamui Gakupo-san, Megurine Luka-san, and Yokune Ruko-san, esteemed guests of Hatsune Miku-sama."

The room was done in traditional Kuniakkan style; men and women sat facing each other on either side of a long central aisle that led to a raised dais at the other end of the room. Behind each line of men, smaller groups of guests sat on cushions at low tables. Every single person in the hall was wearing a mask. There was utter silence in the dining hall as the slight echo of Al's announcement faded, and Luka became acutely aware of two hundred pairs of eyes on her.

Three pairs of eyes in particular, though, followed her as Al led them up the aisle to the dais and most of the assembled guests returned to their conversations. Miku, seated to one side of the dais, looked quietly relieved; she was wearing a rich _kimono_ of red silk trimmed with golden flowers, and her mask – a sly-looking _kitsune_, in what looked like shaped white leather – did very little to hide the two long pigtails her teal hair had been pulled into. At the top of the dais, Hatsune Yosoko had traded her green _kimono_ for an equally expensive one of mingled blue, green and gold; her chocolate-brown eyes glittered at Luka from the depths of an elaborately-shaped, peacock-themed mask of crushed blue and green glass. That left the final figure seated on the dais. Dressed in gold-trimmed black silk patterned on the arms and chest with elegantly-traced _sakura _trees and ancient, obscure kanji, wearing an open-mouthed dragon mask so realistic that Luka swore she could see the golden scales move in time with the rise and fall of the man's shoulders, Hatsune Ryuji watched the interlopers approach.

"Hatsune-san, it is our distinct pleasure to be in your presence," Luka, as the one standing closest to the dais, began, sliding immediately into the deepest bow she could manage. She felt more than saw Gakupo and Ruko following suit behind her. "I apologize for our lateness and for our inappropriate dress." She blinked, eyes still on the floor, as the man behind the mask began to… _chuckle_.

"Please, please, Megurine-san, Kamui-san, Yokune-san," Hatsune Ryuji said, sliding his mask over to the side of his head. The face behind the mask was tanned and well-crinkled with laugh lines; his pitch-black hair was shaded with gray at the temples, tempering what Luka would have called youthful exuberance in his black eyes. "There's no need to stand on such formality here. You are guests here and, more importantly, you are friends of our daughter. Please, take your seats. Dinner is about to be served. Would any of you like saké?" He gestured to three lacquered tables that had appeared as if by magic at the end of the aisle closest to the dais; more servants in sharply-cut tuxedos dashed to place silken cushions behind them, and the three guests took somewhat bemused seats.

Dinner passed in a blitz of luxury. Presented in Romain style, with many small courses, the meal nonetheless incorporated many ingredients Luka had only heard of before. Even the very first course – a small bowl of thick, creamy soup – was sprinkled with small, crimson threads that Luka had a sneaking suspicion were saffron. Each course was whisked away by servants just before the next was brought out; this nearly led to a small scene when Ruko tried to hold onto her plate of civet-coffee-roasted ham, but she relented after a short whispered argument with the man trying to take it from her. As the next course – a lemon-spiced fish filet – came in, Ruko set to with glee, and Luka chanced a look up at the dais. Yosoko rolled her eyes, not touching her plate; Ryuji laughed, nodding congenially to the black-haired woman. Miku, like her mother, made no move to touch the food; she barely seemed to notice the server who took her plate away.

"Now then, my friends," Ryuji began expansively, when dinner was over and the hall bustled with servants clearing the remnants of the tableware away. "Let me be the first to welcome you to Isobe-jima. I realize this all may be a little overwhelming, but you must forgive us our indulgences," he said, almost apologetically. "Yosoko and I hold joint CEOship of Hatsune Records, Inc., the second-largest music distributor in the world. I won't say we aren't comfortable." He shrugged, and it was almost possible to believe that the motion wasn't intended to draw attention to the shimmer of light across the fine silk of his _kimono_. "But for this week, our resources are entirely at your disposal."

"We are, of course, glad to host friends of our daughter," Yosoko put in, glancing over at Miku. "Though, as I have said, your coming was unannounced, that does not excuse our unforgivable lapse in hospitality." Luka blinked, puzzled.

"Please forgive me, Hatsune-san," she said, shifting around on her cushion to face the older woman. "What do you mean by 'unannounced'?"

"You will be granted full use of the resort's amenities and services, including chartered trips to other islands," Yosoko continued, barely pausing. "Any items you buy during the week will be debited to my personal account or that of my husband. Feel free to, as they say, go wild; I guarantee none of you will have a similar opportunity again."

Luka frowned this time, sitting forward a little. "Hatsune-san –" she began, but she paused as movement caught her eye. Miku pulled her mask aside for the first time since the trio had entered the dining hall; not enough that her entire face was visible, but enough to expose one eye, and the message for Luka in her gaze was clear enough: _please drop it_. Luka's mouth tightened slightly, but she sat back; just as well, as Yosoko appeared not to have heard her anyway.

"Well, everyone, thank you all for sharing a delicious meal with us," Ryuji announced, his voice expanding to fill the dining hall. "The head chef will be available outside as you leave, but I would think twice about trying to buy out his contract." There was a wave of good-natured laughter as the other guests – _"Dignitaries and the like – CEOs, you know?"_ Al said again, in Luka's head – stood and streamed out of the hall.

Luka stood as well, stretching out her legs; the cushion had helped a little, but the formal _seiza_ position had been grueling nonetheless. Hopefully on later days, they would be allowed to sit at one of the tables. Up on the dais, Yosoko was already drifting away through another _shoji_ doorway; Ryuji was laughing with a short, balding gentleman in a _koi_ mask. And Miku…

"Luka-san, it's good to see you," Miku said, stepping down to the _tatami_ mats that covered the floor. She had pulled her mask entirely to one side, and the smile on her face, though weak, was infectious. Luka found herself smiling back as the younger girl joined her. "Have you been having a good time?"

"Yes, the cabanas are very nice," Luka replied, her smile fading somewhat. Miku appeared distracted; she glanced back over her shoulder as she spoke, and she was fiddling with one of the whiskers on her mask. Luka reached up and stilled the other girl's hand.

"Miku-chan, what was that about us being 'unannounced'?" she asked quietly. "I thought you said that your parents were okay with you bringing friends?"

"I…" Miku began, her eyes wide. Luka didn't release her hand, and after a long moment, Miku sighed. "You're right, Luka," she said finally. "I owe you all an apology. I made a mistake getting you involved –"

"Ah, there's my daughter," Ryuji boomed from behind her, grinning as he joined the two women. Al stood a respectful distance behind him, domino mask back in place; his gaze was fixed on a point just to the left of the back of Ryuji's head. "Did you enjoy dinner, dear?" he asked Miku, offering her a drink from the small cup of saké he was carrying. At her muted nod, Ryuji shifted gears fluidly, turning to Luka. "Megurine-san? No? Pity; our _tōji_ assures me that this is his best yet." He took a sip himself, letting out a quietly satisfied breath as he lowered the cup and held it out to be taken by Al. "Please enjoy the rest of your week here, Megurine-san," he said, offering his hand to Miku. "If anything – anything at all – is not to your taste, please, let me know." With that, he turned, leading Miku along with him as he headed for the same door Yosoko had vanished through. Luka watched Miku's back, but the teal-haired girl did not turn.

"Luka-san," Gakupo said, coming up beside her. "Shall we depart? I believe –" he glanced over at Ruko, who was standing with Al; the burly manservant had split off from Ryuji, and now stood watching them with an air of patience – "I believe the open house is over for tonight."

"Yeah," Luka said quietly, staring at the _shoji_ screen. "Yeah, I think you're right."

* * *

"Geez," Luka sighed, flicking the light off as she stepped out of the bathroom. The taste of her toothpaste was still strong in her mouth, and she poured herself a glass of water. "I'm starting to think this was a bad idea…" On a whim, she snapped the rest of the lights off, as well. It was nearing eleven, but she wasn't tired; her nerves still thrummed with the same energy they had since dinner.

Luka drew a deep breath, releasing it only as she sank into one of the sinfully comfortable chairs set out in front of the large, plate-glass doors that led out onto the porch. The moon was out, and almost full; silvery light painted the swooping cliffs white and lapped across the tops of the gentle waves that were now beginning to venture across the cove. She took a sip of the water – teeth-achingly cold and pure as the moonlight, she was sure, though it was just tap water – and tried to relax. The sudden _distance_ she felt from the vision bothered her, though; with the doors shut, the air held no trace of sea salt, and it was refrigerated to a chill. Luka felt a sudden need to get outside.

The glass door slid aside like the runners were oiled every day – they probably were – and Luka stepped out onto the porch. The night was still warm and surprisingly humid, and for the first time that night she was glad of the thinness of her shirt. Stepping forward, she leaned against the railing; it was the same warm, buttery wood as the boardwalk, sun- and spray-cured to a lovely silver-gray. She didn't think she could get a splinter from it if she tried.

Listening to the near-silent wash of the sea against the pillars below, Luka was struck with a sudden wave of homesickness stronger than any she had felt in years. Even at school, her parents had never been more than a day's train ride away; but to be honest, it wasn't her parents she was missing. It was her apartment, with its battered old couch and frayed rugs; it was Cryptonight. Meiko-san and Kaito-san probably thought she was dead, Luka thought with a sniff. She missed dancing.

"Luka-san?" said a quiet voice behind her. Luka jerked around, arm half-cocked to throw the glass; she relaxed as the figure that had spoken stepped forward into the light, resolving into Gakupo. The purple-haired man was still dressed in the clothes he had worn to dinner, though his tie was undone and now hung loosely around his neck. "I'm very sorry to intrude," he said. "May I come in?"

"Get over here," Luka said, smiling. As Gakupo joined her at the railing, she took his arm and laid her head on his shoulder, letting out a sigh. "I don't know about this, Gakkun," she said after a moment. "None of this feels right. It feels like… I don't know." She snuggled under his arm, letting his familiarity drive away her previous thoughts.

"I know what you mean, Luka-san," Gakupo replied, looking out over the railing at the sea. Under his arm, Luka cracked open an eye, looking up at him.

"I keep telling you not to call me Luka-san," she said, poking him in the side. "We've been dating for months now, and we've known each other for years before that. Can you call me Luka? Just once?"

"Luka-san…" Gakupo said, sighing.

Luka poked him again. "Close," she said. "Try again."

"…Luka," he said, after a long pause. Luka closed her eyes again, leaning back into his chest.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked. She leaned up to kiss the line of his jaw. "And now…" She slid a hand across his chest, slipping it between the buttons on his shirt to the smooth skin beneath.

Gakupo stiffened. "Luka-san, what are you doing?" he asked. Luka sighed against his neck as she reached up to his collar, undoing the first button there.

"I would think that was obvious," she said, moving to the next one. "I… am… seducing you," she continued, her voice as slow and deliberate as her hand. As she reached the next button, however, Gakupo's hand fell on hers, stilling it.

"Luka-san," he said quietly. "You don't want to do this." He took a step back, still holding onto her hand. She followed him, only to be met by his hand, gentle yet firm on her shoulder.

"Yes, I do," she insisted, pressing forward against him. "I do." She reached up and bent Gakupo's elbow, taking advantage of the lapse in pressure to wrap her arms around him again. "Gakkun, what… are you saying…?"

"Luka, look at me," he said. She met his eyes with hers, and he smiled gently at her, stroking her hair. "This is what I wanted to talk to you about. I know it's hard… but I'm not what you need, Luka," he said. "I think you're coming to realize that."

"No, I'm not," Luka protested, squeezing him tighter. "I'm not, Gakupo. I…" But she was. That was the gap that had sprung up – no; it had been there for some time. It had just widened slowly, unnoticed, until it was impossible to cross anymore. Luka pressed her head into Gakupo's chest, letting her quiet tears sink into his shirt. He held her.

"How long ago, do you think?" Luka asked finally, pulling away from him. "Well, I mean…" she swallowed hard, then looked up at him again. "When did you realize…"

"Luka-san," Gakupo said suddenly, "Do you remember what I said to you on the day of your graduation from high school?"

Luka smiled despite herself, feeling her cheeks warm slightly. "Of course I do."

"I promised to protect you, to be your _samurai_, for as long as you needed me," he said, smiling himself. For an instant, Luka saw him as he had been back then: a sixteen-year-old boy, looking uncomfortable with his school uniform buttoned to the neck like always, but burning with determination as he shouted his promise to the world. "That promise has been fulfilled, Luka-san. You need someone new now. You know that I will gladly follow you to the ends of the earth. I will face any foe, any obstacle, you set me against. I love you, Luka-san." He smiled again, a sweet, sad smile. "But I cannot be the one you're looking for." He turned away.

"Gakupo," Luka said quietly, close behind him. Surprised, he turned, and was utterly blindsided by Luka's palm as she gave him a searing slap across the cheek.

"Luka-san," Gakupo said, holding his hand against the angry red handprint on his face.

"The last I knew, _samurai_ weren't allowed to break their oaths of service," Luka said, not meeting his eyes. "Do you want to commit _seppuku_ for your cowardice? When the hell –" she broke off, swallowing hard. "When the hell –"

"Luka-san, I –" Gakupo said, lowering his hand slowly. She grabbed it, her palm warm against his, and looked up at him, eyes blazing through her tears.

"When the hell did you get to decide that I don't need you anymore?" she whispered, placing her hand gently on his cheek. Tears were streaming down her face now, but she ignored them. "That's not something you get to decide all by yourself…"

After a long moment, Gakupo closed his eyes. He placed his hand over hers, the pain and the warmth intermingling. They stood there for a long time, until finally Luka pulled away.

"Kamui Gakupo, I hereby release you from my service," she said. "No longer are you my _samurai_. I'm declaring you a free man."

"Luka-san?" Gakupo asked. Luka smiled at him, holding out her hand.

"I don't want a _samurai_ who will do whatever I tell him," she said quietly, meeting Gakupo's eyes. "I want a friend, one of the best friends I've ever had in my life, to continue standing by my side, giving unwarranted advice about term papers and wearing ugly swim trunks. Whether you know it or not, Gakupo, I want you. Of course I do. Don't ever think otherwise."

Gakupo suddenly felt his vision go misty. "I understand," he said, taking Luka's hand. "Then, Luka-san, I am proud to call you 'friend'."

Luka smiled. "Me too, Gakkun. Me too." She stepped back, accidentally running into the railing. The wood was sturdy, but it shook under the impact, and Gakupo's eyes widened.

"Luka-san," he began, starting forward. He was too slow, though, and Luka turned in surprise as the glass she had left on the railing fell, shattering into a crystalline galaxy of shards as it hit the wood of the porch.

"Oh, no," Luka sighed, looking down at the fragments littering the deck. Most of the glass had broken into small chunks and glittering diamond dust, but several larger shards glinted in the moonlight, wickedly sharp prisms that seemed to dance in the darkness. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Here, Luka-san, don't move," Gakupo said, bending down. He picked up the largest shard, cupping it in his palm, and set to work on the smaller fragments. After a moment, Luka joined him.

"I can –" he began. Luka shook her head, a small smile on her face.

"Let me do this, Gakkun," she said. "We're equals now, remember?" She smiled at him, and snatched a piece of glass away from his hand.

When the shards were safely in the trash can, they found themselves back on the porch again by some unspoken agreement. Their shoulders rubbed together as they stood at the railing, but the contact felt different this time. Rather than the subtle heat she had felt before – entirely imagined, she supposed – Luka now felt a deep, abiding warmth. She leaned against him, and he made no move to pull away.

"So, um…are you…?" Luka asked after a moment, unsure of how to put it. To her surprise, Gakupo flushed red.

"Not… to my knowledge, no, I am not," he said, giving a small cough. "Rather… since I was a young man, old enough to begin considering… matters, I have not felt sexual attraction. To anyone, ever," he added, at Luka's incredulous look. "I find it makes life… simpler, in some ways. And… more complicated, in others." Luka nodded slowly.

"You're bleeding," she said suddenly, looking at his hand. A thin crimson line – black in the moonlight – traced across his fingertip, and a trail of dark liquid meandered slowly down his skin.

"So are you," he said, indicating her own hand. As she looked, she saw he was right; a drop of blood seemed to hang on the end of her finger before it fell, a single black pearl, into the quiet waves below. She let out a laugh.

It was a ridiculous thing to laugh about, but she kept laughing, even though she didn't feel like laughing at all; and Gakupo was laughing with her, with his uninjured hand around her shoulder, and hers around his; and when the laughter turned to tears, and back to laughter, and then to something in-between, they cried for what had been, what could have been and what could never have been, and they laughed for what the future held.

They laughed together.

* * *

**Hey, for once it's a non-threatening chapter ending. That's good, right? Kind of?**

**Music! ****(Again, these are all extensions for that YT video site I can't directly link to.)**

*** This song is **_**Akahitoha**_**: watch?v=UO52OoC0HhA. The lyrics, for once, have nothing to do with the plot. Or do they…? (They don't.)**

**** The song that should be playing when you envision this house is 'Inside the Tam House', from the soundtrack of Joss Whedon's **_**Firefly**_**: watch?v=f4mQ9-J02dI**

**Just Be Friends: watch?v=VoPzP-MwcLI**

**Various other notes:**

**Hatsune Ryuji's given name is written ****竜二****, meaning 'second dragon'. **

**Romain… you'll notice, or you will if you've been reading the notes for each chapter, that I've been equating a lot of Kuniakkan things with Japanese things. There's a reason for that: Kuniaku is basically an alternate-world Japan. Roma, the country Luka notes the dinner style comes from, is alternate-world Italy, or an alternate-world Roman Empire. That likely won't have any bearing on our favorite four, but for the sake of worldbuilding…**

**A **_**tōji **_**is a saké brewmaster. It's a hereditary position, and well-respected among artisans. Ryuji pays the Hatsune **_**tōji**_** quite handsomely in exchange for his exclusive patronage.**

_**Seppuku **_**is the ultimate act of penance a **_**samurai**_** can perform. Known vulgarly as **_**harakiri**_**, meaning 'stomach-cut', it's ritual self-disembowelment. Luka is furiously suggesting that Gakupo's behind the times.**

**This chapter was difficult to write, and I'm really anxious to know if it went well. If you have time to favorite me or the story, please consider leaving a review as well, just to let me know what you thought of it. Thanks!**


	6. Imitation Black, Part 1

**Hey, everyone! It's been a while, hasn't it? Comes with settling in to college. I'll try harder to get more written, but the truth is that you may be looking at sparse releases until summer - although I imagine you all are used to long periods with no releases from me... orz. **

**Anyway, this is about half - maybe 1/3 - of Chapter 6. It's nowhere near ready to be posted, but hey - today is Luka's birthday, and I'd feel bad if I just let it pass.**

* * *

There was certainly something to be said for living by the sea, Luka thought as her eyes drifted open. The bedroom window looking out over the cove had been thrown wide, letting in the sweet breeze that had awoken her; playful and warm, the gust of wind stirred the strands of hair on her pillow as it danced through the room and into the kitchen. Luka sat up, letting the soft sheets fall from her shoulders, and stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. The bandage on her finger was stained a dark brown, but no blood seemed to have leaked through overnight; still, she checked the sheets just in case.

There was a knock on the doorframe, and Luka smiled as Ruko stuck her head into the room. "Gooood morning, birthday girl!" the dark-haired woman exclaimed, rounding the corner. "Spent long enough in bed?" She crossed the white tile floor in a few steps, throwing herself onto Luka's bed.

"Oh no you don't," Luka said, getting up to tug at her. "I don't know how much coffee you put away this morning, but if I let you get back in bed you'll be out like a light." Ruko rolled off the bed, landing easily; she adopted a hurt expression, crossing her arms over her breasts.

"I would never," she said. "Well, okay, yes, I would, but not today! I'm still working on your present," she confided, a little embarrassedly. "It's… taking a little longer than I would've liked, but everything should be ready by tonight."

"I can't wait," Luka said, smiling. She stepped forward to give Ruko a hug. "Have you seen Gakkun yet today?"

"Yeah, I ran into him earlier," Ruko replied, sighing happily into Luka's shoulder. "He's helping me with the present, actually." She paused, then pulled away from Luka. "Did… something happen between you two?"

"Kind of," Luka admitted. "Nothing bad," she hastened to add, at Ruko's expression. "Just… the air's been cleared now, I guess."

Ruko nodded thoughtfully to herself. "Yeah," she said, after a moment. "He looked really happy, is why I asked. Happier than I've seen him for a long time. Maybe ever."

"Maybe," Luka agreed. She let Ruko go and turned to the wardrobe. "Sorry to rush; I've gotta go up to the compound." Ruko leaned on the windowsill as Luka pulled her shirt over her head; last night's black silk pooled like a liquid shadow around her feet. "That is, if you think Al-san will even let me in to see Miku?"

"If he won't, there's probably a good reason for it," Ruko said quietly, playing with the lacquered white shutters. "Important music-producy business to attend to, you know?" She turned around as Luka adjusted the straps of her light cotton sundress, tugging the cream-colored material higher up her chest. "Every third sentence or so last night was an 'Oh, by the way, we didn't invite you guys'."

"Trust me, I'll be asking about that," Luka declared, running a brush haphazardly through her hair. "How's that look? Presentable, at the very least?"

"You look fine, Luka," Ruko said, smiling as she leaned back against the windowsill. The wind caught at her pigtail and blew a strand of hair into her mouth; she made a face and spit it out, then frowned at Luka for laughing. "See if I ever compliment you again," she muttered.

"I wouldn't blame you at all if you didn't," Luka replied, struggling to keep a straight face. She stepped out into the kitchen, looking back at Ruko; when the dark-haired woman made no move to leave, she shrugged. "I'll be back soon, okay? And don't worry, I won't peek at my present."

"You'd better not," Ruko called after her. After a moment, the sound of Luka's footsteps on the boardwalk faded away, and Ruko sighed. She stood, turning to look out the window again. "Time to get back to work," she murmured, swinging the shutters closed.

* * *

Luka's feet sank almost immediately into the powder sand as she stepped off the last buried plank of the boardwalk. The layer of hot sand on top gave way to the cool sand below, and Luka dug her feet around for a moment, savoring the sensation. She was a little surprised to see other people on the beach; other guests, she supposed, and avoided making eye contact with any of them. The fact that most of them were graying, slightly overweight men helped in this regard; but anyway, it was difficult enough justifying her presence here to herself. Having to explain it to someone whose swimsuit cost more than she made in a year wouldn't help at all.

The lanterns from last night were still up, Luka noticed as she stepped into the forest. Of course, they would have to be lit again tonight; but it ruined the illusion a little, seeing them in broad daylight like this. Black-clad servants, none of them betraying a hint of discomfort in the summer heat, moved from tree to tree, replacing the tiny candles that had burned down to lumpy little mountains of wax over the night. Luka waved at a group of them; she was lucky to get a nod in response, and many ignored her entirely.

"Oh, Luka-san," Al called, surprised, as she crested the hill. The big man paused in his work – running a well-kept hand mower across already immaculate lawn – and ran an arm across his forehead, wiping sweat away from his scar. "What brings you up here? Would you like some lunch?"

"No, that's fine, Al-san," Luka replied, waving a hand. "I was actually hoping you could show me the way to Miku…-san's room," she said, stopping at the edge of the stone path. "I'd like to talk to her."

Al sighed, setting his lawnmower down. "I'd love to, miss, but Lady Hatsune is talking with her daughter at the moment. It's more than my job is worth to interrupt, even for a guest's sake." He shrugged helplessly. "If you'd been called up by the young mistress, it would be a different story, but—"

"I was," Luka replied immediately, plunging into the baldfaced lie with absolutely no shame. "Last night, Miku-san said she wanted to tell me something, but she didn't get the chance, so she asked me to come by today when I woke up." There… at least that wasn't entirely untrue. Just mostly. Luka blinked as Al smiled, wiping his hands on a rag from his pocket.

"Well, if that's the case, it can't be helped, miss," he said, taking the stairs up to the front door. "If you'll come with me, I'll take you to the young mistress' room right away."

Far be it from her to argue with results like that, but Luka still felt a little strange as she followed the burly manservant back into the twisting halls of the Hatsune compound. Seeing the building's interior in the daytime didn't change its atmosphere much, if at all; there were no windows, and the _shoji_ to the outside were few enough that only isolated patches of space were lit by anything brighter than the lanterns on the walls.

"It's just around this corner, miss," Al said after some time and a truly staggering amount of turns. He indicated a smallish _shoji_ door, Miku's name inscribed in the corner in understated letters. "If you'll wait outside here, I'm sure that—" He broke off as a muffled shout sounded from behind the door.

"I can't believe you, Mother! You really have no faith in me. Is it so hard to believe –" Instead of the chill anger Luka had heard on the train three months ago, Miku's voice now held heat; she sounded on the edge of tears.

"Yes, it is." To contrast, Hatsune Yosoko's voice was carved from ice, and it slid under Luka's skin like a knife. "You have proven untrustworthy in the past – you have proven untrustworthy even now, bringing guests despite our explicit request that –"

"Explicit command, you mean?" Miku replied, her tone flirting with the edge of scorn. There was a palpable pause, and Luka's gaze flickered to Al. He was expressionless, and he gazed fixedly at a point on the wall behind her.

"If you wish," Yosoko replied finally. Her voice was stronger now, and Luka guessed she was no more than ten feet from the door. "If it becomes necessary. You do not quite grasp what is at stake here–"

"So it comes back to that, Mother," Miku cut in. A soft _thump_ filtered through the door; someone had stamped a foot. "I knew that was always your highest priority. Ever since—"

"Don't you dare—" Yosoko hissed suddenly. Miku raised her voice to shout over her.

"Ever since what happened to Mikuo," she began again. There was a sharp sound, the slap of flesh on flesh, and then dead silence. Luka took a step toward the door, but Al was already there, sliding the door open and bowing in the same motion.

"Forgive my intrusion, young mistress. Megurine-san to see you, as you asked," he said, keeping his eyes on the floor. After a moment, he looked up, and Luka nearly bought the look of surprise on his face as he pretended to have just arrived. It couldn't have been too hard to fake.

Miku stood in the center of the room, wearing a light _yukata_; she had a hand pressed to her cheek. Yosoko had turned away as the door opened, and now resolutely refused to face the intruders; she held her right hand some distance away from her body, curled as if it stung. There was a moment of silence.

"Ah, yes, thank you, Al-san," Miku replied hastily, looking over his shoulder at Luka. "I—"

"That will be all," Yosoko said quietly, stepping briskly across the floor. She didn't look at her daughter. "Al, come with me."

"Right away, my lady," Al replied immediately, bowing again and following Yosoko from the room. He cast a brief glance at Luka as he slid the _shoji_ shut, but she couldn't tell what he meant by it. It might not even have been intended for her.

"Are you alright?" Luka asked after a moment, turning to face Miku. The younger girl hadn't moved from her place; it was hard to tell if she had breathed. The handprint on her cheek was beginning to fade away, but four small spots of blood marked her skin where Yosoko's nails had caught. She paid little attention to it, though, and took a seat at a writing desk on the far wall.

"I'm… I'll be okay," she replied slowly. "She didn't hit me that hard." She seemed to remember herself after that, springing up from the chair. "Oh, sorry! Here, sit down. I can sit on the bed." She did as she said, hopping up onto a luxuriously-appointed four-poster bed in Britannian style. Luka took the offered seat, frowning at the green-haired girl.

"That wasn't what I meant," she said, pulling the chair out from the desk and setting it to face Miku. She sat down again, putting her eyes on about the same level as Miku's; their gazes did not meet. "What were you fighting about?"

Miku sighed, flopping backward onto her bed. Luka waited patiently, and eventually Miku raised a hand, pointing at the canopy stretching overhead.

"I never liked this color," she said, letting her hand fall back down. "I wanted a darker green, but by the time I saw the bed, they had already decided what color it was going to be."

Luka opened her mouth, and Miku sat up, leaning over to pat the dresser next to the bed. "This, too," she said. "Hideous, isn't it? Some kind of Romain design, says Mother, very expensive of course. But it's _ugly_," she said disbelievingly. She stood, crossing the room to a long vanity, the surface of which was covered with stuffed animals. "Even these. I didn't choose a single one of them – which isn't to say that I don't love them," she added hurriedly, patting the animals' heads, "uh, that is– uh – well, you know what I mean," she finished lamely, blushing.

"No, I don't, Miku-chan," Luka broke in, standing. "I don't understand what you mean. Do you want to tell me this time, or are you just going to evade the question, like last night?" She laid a hand on Miku's shoulder, feeling the tension in the muscles under her skin.

"…No…no, I promised you an explanation, and you'll get one," Miku said finally, turning away. "Come on, sit down. It's a long story." She pulled Luka along with her, and they sat down on the bed. It was ridiculously soft, but Miku held her balance with the ease of long experience.

"My parents… are very rich," Miku began, after a moment. "They hold joint CEOship of Hatsune Records, one of the largest recording and music distribution studios in the world, as well as numerous other businesses and satellite corporations." She seemed enthralled by the light pattern on the hem of her _yukata_, and she traced it with a fingertip as she spoke.

Luka waited, taking a good look around the room as she did so. It was appointed in Western fashion, though there was no carpet, and it felt little-used – moreso than any of the other preternaturally clean rooms. Those felt like they were cleaned after something had happened to dirty them. This felt like it was kept up like a museum exhibit.

"Each of my parents receives an annual salary of twenty billion yen," Miku continued in the same flat tone, "not counting stock holdings, bonuses, growth of existing assets, and other sources of income. In reality, it's more like forty billion each per year." She looked up at Luka through a curtain of bangs, eyes wide. "I'm not trying to brag or anything, Luka-san," she said hurriedly. "I just want you to understand.

"I want you to understand that I'm very important to my parents. Or rather…" she paused. "What I am is very important to my parents." Miku shook her head, sending her hair out in a fan. "I'm their only child now."

"Then, Mikuo was the brother you mentioned earlier," Luka murmured, glancing back at the door. Yosoko was gone, of course, but mentioning the name was obviously taboo. "Is… was he…?"

Miku stood in one motion, seemingly unable to sit still anymore. She turned and grabbed Luka's hand. When Luka looked up, the girl's green eyes were glimmering.

"That's right," Miku said, fairly grinning. "I have an older brother who was supposed to take over the company when he graduated business school four years ago."

"What happened to him?" Luka asked, confused by the grin. Miku's hand was hot in hers, and it was distracting for some reason.

"Well, he graduated with the highest degree they could give him," Miku replied. "Everything was set for the transfer of power." She let go of Luka's hand and started pacing in a little oval, unable to contain her excitement. "But he didn't want to take the company. Instead, he flew to the Middle Countries – apparently he had already become a citizen – and he runs a pottery shop there! He still writes to me," she added, "but he hasn't spoken to our parents in years." She sighed, returning to the chair. When she spoke again, much of the energy that had animated her was gone.

"I'm… really happy for Mikuo-oniichan," she said. "But my parents disowned him, and everything that he was going to be… is on my shoulders now. _I'm _the future of Hatsune Records now. My class schedule for the next eight years has already been worked out – I'm going to major in international business and economics, then transfer to a prestigious business school run by a friend of my mother's once I graduate. They let me take Voice because I wouldn't agree to it otherwise," she remarked, her lips pressed tightly together. "This is my last really free vacation. They'll make sure I don't bring any friends next time."

"I…" Luka began, making to stand up. Miku held up a hand, stopping her.

"Not sure what to say?" she finished for the older woman, obviously forcing herself to smile. "It's okay, Luka-san. Just say I'm being selfish." She blinked, and there were tears in her eyes now, though her smile and her voice remained steady. "I brought you all with me because I didn't want to face my parents alone, and because I knew bringing people would annoy them. I don't have the courage to do what Mikuo did, so I do things like this – stupid little things that do nothing but annoy my parents and make things worse." She shook her head again. "It was all for my own sake. I didn't think of what you guys would think at all, I just dragged you out here. I even lied to you." She stood, offering Luka a hand up. "And you know, even telling you all this stuff is just to make myself feel better too. I really am selfish—"

Luka took Miku's hand and stood, pulling the smaller girl into a hug. She tensed immediately, instinctively trying to pull away, and Luka reached up a hand to stroke her hair. "I'm not happy about being lied to," she said quietly. "But I understand. I also understand that no matter what you think yourself, you're not telling me because you're selfish, or to make yourself feel better. You're telling me because you need a friend," she continued, keeping up a soothing rhythm. "That's all. That's all." After a long moment, Miku's arms wrapped around her, and Luka held her tightly as her shoulders shook.

"Feeling better?" Luka asked, after a while. Miku nodded, pulling slightly away from her. She scrubbed at her eyes, and when she dropped her hands Luka saw that she was smiling again – actually smiling this time.

"Thanks, Luka-san," Miku said softly. "I'm… really glad I met you, you know? You've been a really good friend to me. I… someday I want to be able to return the favor."

"You already have," Luka replied, matching her smile. "I'm your friend, which means that you're my friend – and that puts us even, doesn't it?"

Miku stared at Luka for a moment, then leapt at her, hugging her again. Before Luka could react, though, Miku had spun around behind her and taken her by the shoulders. She steered her senior over to the door, sliding it open with a foot. "I still have a lot of stuff to do before tonight, so you need to go away now," she said, smiling secretively. "Luka-san, have you finished your mask yet?"

"Um," Luka replied. Miku tsked, laying a hand on Luka's face.

"You need to hurry up, then," she chided. "Dinner's at sundown, and then the party starts! You don't have all that much time left."

"I know, I know," Luka muttered, long-suffering tone not matching her smile. "I'll get it done, don't worry." She stepped across the threshold, pausing to rather belatedly slip her shoes off as a passing servant looked pointedly at her. "I'll see you then, okay?"

"Definitely," Miku replied. "Oh, wait!" She disappeared back into the room, and Luka heard the sound of a drawer opening. The younger girl reappeared a second later, carrying a wrapped package. "I know it's a little early, but happy birthday," she said, smiling almost self-consciously. "Be sure to open it when you get back to your room – oh, and talk to Gakupo-san too. He has the other part of it." Her hands free, Miku sort of hovered by the door, half leaning on the frame and half not. "I hope you like it," she finished, after a moment.

Luka smiled, giving Miku a hug made awkward by the package. "I'm sure I will." Miku grinned, then firmly steered Luka out of the room. "I'll see you tonight, Luka-san. Now shoo! I'm very busy still." The door slid closed, and Miku's shadow on the thin paper grew indistinct and vanished as she padded back into the depths of her room.

Luka bent to pick up her shoes in her free hand, padding in socked feet down the twisty hallways. Even without Al, it seemed like she had subconsciously picked up the turns; she was out in the early-afternoon sun again in almost no time at all.

* * *

"Finally done," Ruko grumbled, setting her scissors aside for the last time. "Whose idea was it to put so much embroidery on this damn thing…?"

"I will do you a favor and not answer that," Gakupo replied, smiling softly. He reached for the finished product, paused, then picked it up at Ruko's nod. "Your craftsmanship is astonishing, Ruko-san. I wasn't aware that you had this amount of talent."

"Come on, Gakkun, don't say things like that," Ruko said, taking it gently from his hands. "It's not that. I'm usually no good at this kind of thing. It's just… it's just that…"

As Ruko spoke, a wave kicked up against the piers below, spraying beads of water into the sunset-colored air. They caught the light from the sun over the horizon and blazed into color, burning brightly before splashing down into dark wet spots on the smooth wood of the banister and the deck. If Gakupo reacted to the words at all, he said nothing. Instead, after a moment's silence, he stood.

"The dance will begin soon, Ruko-san," Gakupo said quietly, sliding the door to the patio closed. "You should hurry."

"I know," Ruko said, wrapping paper rustling in the sudden absence of the swish of surf. "Thanks for letting me work in here, Gakupo. It'd be bad if Luka saw, so…"

"Not at all," Gakupo deflected, waving a hand. He turned back to the door; the sun was just going down, and as the last sliver of fire dipped below the trees, the hillside burst into light as the lanterns were lit. A cheer floated across the water, dimmed by distance and glass. Gakupo took a deep breath.

"Ruko-san—" he began, turning. But she was already gone, hurrying down the boardwalk into the cove. Gakupo watched her figure, vague in the encroaching twilight, vanish into the farthest cabana from shore. He sighed, then turned away, pulling his shirt over his head.

* * *

**So there you have it. The rest of the chapter will be posted as 6-B, rather than edited in like I did with Chapter 4.**

**Notes!**

**I don't think there's anything really specific I need to mention here. Mikuo is, of course, Miku's genderbent variant; in this story, he's her older brother. The Middle Countries are China, I think, though I haven't really decided much about this world aside from what's pertinent to the characters. Maybe some other time.**

**Anyway, please look forward to Chapter 6-B, which will finish this arc, most likely. I'll see you all then!**


End file.
